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GOETHE 


GOETHE   IN    HIS   LAST   YEAR.    1832. 
Drawn  from  life  by  C.  A.  Schwerdgeburth. 


GOETHE 


WITH 


SPECIAL  CONSIDERATION  OF 
HIS  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 

PAUL  CARUS 


CONTAINING  ONE  HUNDRED  AND  EIGHTY-FIVE  PORTRAITS 
AND  OTHER  HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS 


CHICAGO  LONDON 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1915 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1915 


PREFACE. 

GOETHE,  the  man,  the  poet,  and  the  author,  has  been  de- 
scribed over  and  over.  His  works  have  been  translated, 
interpreted,  discussed,  and  it  seems  almost  redundant  to  return  to 
him  again.  And  yet  we  venture  to  offer  a  book  on  Goethe.  Certain 
very  important  phases  in  Goethe's  life  appear  to  have  been  neglected. 
Most  of  his  greatest  works  have  been  translated  into  English,  a 
few  of  them,  for  instance  "Faust,"  in  many  different  versions,  but 
there  are  some  of  his  most  characteristic  poems  of  which  no  one  has 
ever  ventured  to  off'er  a  translation,  and  it  is  precisely  these  poems 
that  contain  the  most  thoughtful  verses  ever  written  by  this  great 
poet,  prominent  in  the  literature  not  only  of  the  German  fatherland 
but  of  the  whole  world. 

We  offer  this  presentation  of  Goethe  with  the  special  purpose 
in  view  of  bringing  out  those  features  of  his  life  which  characterize 
him  as  a  thinker  or,  perhaps  better,  as  a  philosopher. 

Though  Goethe  can  not  be  called  a  philosopher  proper,  though 
he  had  a  positive  aversion  to  philosophy  as  a  specialized  study,  he 
may  fairly  well  be  called  a  philosopher  in  the  broad  sense  of  the 
term.  He  was  a  thinking  man  who  had  a  definite  world-conception 
which  dominated  not  only  his  particular  life  but  also  his  poetry. 

Some  of  the  philosophical  poems  of  Goethe  are  rather  difficult 
to  understand  and  have  therefore  not  become  as  well  known  as  those 
other  poems  of  his  which  were  written  in  a  lighter  vein.  Neverthe- 
less they  are  by  no  means  unintelligible  to  the  general  reader  and 
possess  the  advantage  of  becoming  more  interesting  as  soon  as  their 
real  significance  has  been  grasped.  P.  C 


contents! 


PAGE 


List  of  Illustrations vii 

The  Life  of  Goethe 1 

His  Relation  to  Women 66 

Goethe's  Personality 143 

The  Religion  of  Goethe 177 

Goethe's  Philosophy 222 

Literature  and  Criticism 261 

The  Significance  of  "Faust" 282 

Miscellaneous  Epigrams  and  Poems  327 

Index 347 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 


Goethe  in  his  Last  Year,  1832.    By  C.  A.  Schwerdgeburth.     (Frontispiece.) 

Horoscope  of  Goethe.     Cast  by  A.  J.  Pearce  2 

Goethe's  Grandfather,  Schultheiss  Textor.   After  a  painting  by  A.  Scheppen    3 
Goethe's  Grandmother.  Frau  Anna  Margaretha  Textor.    Artist  unknown  .  .     4 

The  Goethe  Homestead  in  Artern  on  the  Unstrut 5 

The  Textor  Homestead   6 

The  Goethe  House  at  Frankfort  as  it  Looked  in  Goethe's  Childhood.  Drawn 

by  E.  Biichner  7 

Frangois  de  Theas,  Count  of  Thorane  8 

The  Rahmhof.    Where  the  French  Theater  at  Frankfort  was  estabhshed.  . .     9 

Johann  Adam  Horn.    After  a  drawing  by  Goethe 10 

Burning  his  Youthful  Productions   12 

Friederike  Elisabeth  Oeser.     Etched  by  Banse  in  1777  from  a  painting  by 

her  father,  Prof.  Adam  Friedrich  Oeser   13 

Discussing  Religious  Questions  with  the  Dresden  Shoemaker  14 

Bird's  Eye  View  of  Strassburg.     From  an  old  hymn-book  16 

Jacob  Michael  Reinhold  Lenz.    After  a  drawing  by  Pfenninger  in  Lavater's   . 

Collection 17 

Johann  Heinrich  Jung-Stilling.    By  H.  Lips,  1801  18 

Goethe's  Residence  when  a  Student.     On  the  Old  Fish  Market  in  Strass- 
burg     19 

Maria  Caroline  Flachsland.     Afterwards  Frau  Herder  20 

Johann  Heinrich  Merck   21 

View  of  Wetzlar  from  the  South   22 

Carl  Wilhelm  Jerusalem  as  a  Child.    Drawing  formerly  in  the  possession  of 

Georg   Kestner   of   Dresden,   grandson   of   Frau    Charlotte   Kestner. 

Now  in  the  Goethe  Museum  of  Weimar 23 

Johann  Christian  Kestner.     After  a  lithograph  of  J.  Giere  from  a  painting 

in  the  possession  of  Georg  Kestner 24 

Werther's  Lotta.    By  Kaulbach  25 

Christoph  Friedrich  Nicolai.     Haid's  engraving  after  Chodowiecki 26 

Joys  of  Young  Werther.    Chodowiecki's  vignette  on  the  title  page  of  Nico- 

lai's  satire  ^^ 

Johann  Bernhard  Basedow   29 

Karl  Ludwig  von  Knebel.    Drawn  by  Schmeller,  1824 30 

Christian,  Count  Stolberg.     After  a  painting  by  Groger  31 

Friedrich  Leopold,  Count  Stolberg.     After  a  painting  by  Rincklacke  31 


Vlll  GOETHE. 

PACK 

Christoph  Martin  Wieland   32 

Karl  August,  Duke  of  Saxe  Weimar.    Drawing  from  life  by  Lips,  1780  ...  34 
Goethe's  Little  Country  House.    After  a  drawing  by  O.  Wagner,  1827  ....  35 

Goethe's  Coat  of  Arms   36 

View  of  St.  Peters.     Sketched  by  Goethe  39 

Goethe  in  Rome.    Drawing  by  Tischbein,  1787 40 

Goethe  in  the  Campagna  at  Rome.     Painting  by  Tischbein  41 

Maddalena  Riggi.    Painting  by  Angelica  Kauffmann 42 

Christian  August  Vulpius   43 

August  von  Goethe.    Crayon  drawing  by  Schmeller 44 

Old  Theater  in  Weimar  45 

Schiller  and  Goethe  Ridiculed  46 

Franz  Schubert 47 

Karl  Loewe 48 

The  Goethe  Table  in  Schiller's  Garden.    Where  the  friends  often  conversed 

together   50 

Goethe  Contemplating  Schiller's  Skull.     Sculpture  by  Eberlein  51 

Goethe  in  1800.     Crayon  by  F.  Bury  52 

Christiana  Vulpius  and  August  von  Goethe.  Watercolor  by  Heinrich  Meyer  53 

Bettina  von  Arnim,    At  an  advanced  age 54 

Johann  Peter  Eckermann.     Original  in  the  Goethe  Museum  at  Weimar...  58 
Goethe  Dictating  to  Eckermann.     After  an  oil  painting  by  J.  J.  Schmeller 

in  1831 59 

Goethe's  Son  August.     Medallion  by  Thorwaldsen   62 

"More  Light."    Painting  by  F.  Fleischer  in  the  Goethe  Museum  at  Weimar  63 

Goethe's  Grandchildren.     Drawing  by  Arendswald,  1836 64 

Goethe  in  his  Thirtieth  Year.    Painted  by  G.  O.  May,  1779 67 

Goethe's  Mother,  Frau  Aja.    After  a  picture  in  the  possession  of  Solomon 

Hirzel 68 

Goethe's  Father.     After  a  copper  engraving  in  Lavater's  Physio gnomische 

Fragmente,  1777   69 

The  Goethe  Family  of  Frankfort.    Painted  by  J.  C.  Seekatz  in  1762 70 

The  Room  of  Frau  Rath  Goethe.    Drawing  by  E.  Biichner 71 

Gretchen.     By  Kaulbach    75 

The  Poet's  Sister.    Drawn  by  Goethe  about  1770.    From  the  portfolio  Juve- 
nilia    77 

Cornelia,  Goethe's  Sister 78 

Johann  Georg  Schlosser.     Medallion  by  Becker  80 

Charitas  Meixner.    After  an  oil  painting  81 

Betty  Jacobi,  nee  von  Clermont  82 

Johanna  Fahlmer  in  Old  Age  82 

Kitty  Schonkopf 83 

Kaulbach's  Brion  Family 85 

Friederike's  Home,  the  Parsonage  at  Sesenheim.     After  an  oil  painting  in 
the  possession  of  A.  Storber,  now  in  the  Freie  Deutsche  Hochstift 

at  Frankfort  on  the  Main  86 

Falk's  Friederike  Portrait.    Found  among  Lenz's  papers  87 

Friederike's   Autograph    88 

The  Parsonage  at  Sesenheim.    Drawing  by  Goethe 89 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  ix 


PAGE 


Goethe  Parting  from  Friederike.     By  Eugen  Klimsch   90 

Sesenheim 91 

Susanna  von  Klettenberg  in  her  Fortj^-fourth  Year.     In  the  Goethe  Mu- 
seum at  Weimar  97 

Charlotte  Sophie  Henriette  Buff.     Redrawn  from  a  pastel  99 

The  Deutsche  Haus,  Showing  the  Windows  of  Charlotte's  Room 100 

Charlotte  Buff's  Room  in  the  Deutsche  Haus  at  Wetzlar 100 

Frau  Sophie  von  La  Roche  101 

Frau   ]\Iaximiliana    Brentano.     Daughter   of   Sophie   von   La   Roche   and 

mother  of  Bettina  von  Arnim 102 

Anna  Elisabeth  Schonemann  :  Goethe's  Lili 103 

Lili's  Menagerie.     By  Kaulbach    104 

Barbara  Schulthess.     Painting  by  Tischbein,  1781   106 

Mignon  in  "Wilhelm  Meister."     By  Kaulbach   107 

Corona  Schroter.     By  Anton  Graff  109 

Iphigenia  and  Orestes.     By  Georg  Melchior  Kraus   110 

"The  Fisher  Maiden"  Played  in  Tiefurt  Park.     By  Georg  Melchior  Kraus  111 

Corona  Schroter.    By  Georg  Melchior  Kraus  112 

Friedrich  Hildebrand  von  Einsiedel.     Drawing  by  Schmeller  113 

Cupid  Feeding  a  Nightingale   114 

Amalia,  Duchess  Dowager  of  Saxe-Weimar.    Painting  by  Angelica  Kauff- 

mann 116 

Duchess  Dowager  Amalia  in  Advanced  Years.     Etching  by  Steinla,  after 

a  painting  by  Jagemann  117 

The  Circle  of  the  Duchess  Amalia.    Water  color  by  Kraus,  1795 118 

Castle  Kochberg,  Mansion  on  the  Stein  Estate.    Drawn  by  Goethe 119 

Friedrich   Constantin  von   Stein    (called  Fritz).     Drawing  by   Schmeller, 

about  1819 120 

Christiana  Vulpius  121 

Christiana  Waiting.    Drawn  from  life  by  Goethe  122 

Christiana  Asleep.     Drawn  by  Goethe  in  illustration  of  his  poem 123 

Frau  Johanna  Schopenhauer  and  her  Daughter,  Adele   125 

Facsimile  of  the  Handwriting  of  Goethe  and  Schopenhauer  126 

Caroline  von  Heygendorf,  nee  Jagemann  128 

Arthur  Schopenhauer.     Bust  by  Elisabet  Ney  129 

Ludwig  Joachim  von  Arnim  130 

Clemens   Brentano    130 

Bettina  von  Arnim,  nee  Brentano.    Enlarged  from  a  miniature  by  A.  von 

Achim  Baerwalde  131 

Minna  Herzlieb 132 

Frau  Marianne  von  Willemer,  nee  Jung.     Engraved  by  Doris  Raab.   1814.  133 
The  Bridge  Over  the  Main  at  Frankfort.     Drawing  in  sepia  by  A.  Radl, 
presented  to  Goethe  after  his  visit  at  the  Willemer  home,  August 

12-18,  1815 134 

Marianne  von  Willemer  135 

Ottilie  von  Goethe,  nee  von  Pogwisch.     Crayon  by  H.  Muller  about  1820.  .  137 

Ulrike  von  Levetzow.     After  a  pastel  miniature  138 

Kolbe's  Goethe  Portrait  1*^^ 

Frau  Charlotte  von  Stein,  nee  Schardt.     Drawn  by  herself,  1790 140 


X  GOETHE. 

PAGE 

Frail  Charlotte  von  Stein.     Painting  b}-  H.  Meyer,  1780   141 

The  Apollo  Bust  of  Goethe.     By  A.  Trippel  144 

Goethe  in  his  Eighty-third  year.     After  an  engraving  by  Schwerdgeburth  145 

Karl  Friedrich  Zelter   148 

The  Young  Poet,  Drawn  by  Himself.     From  the  portfolio  Juvenilia 150 

The  Watch  Tower  of  Sachsenhausen  on  the   Main  Opposite  Frankfort. 

Drawing  by  Goethe  contained  in  the  portfolio  Juvenilia  151 

The  Church  of  St.  Leonhard.     Drawing  by  Goethe,  1764.     From  the  port- 
folio Juvenilia 152 

An  Etching  by  Goethe.    From  the  portfolio  Juvenilia  153 

Goethe's  Study.    Drawn  by  O.  Schultz  after  a  photograph  by  L.  Held  .  . .  156 

Goethe's  House  in  Weimar  157 

Goethe's  House  in  Weimar  158 

Gottsched  Rebukes  his  Servant   160 

Johann  Christoph  Gottsched  161 

C.  F.  Gellert   162 

J.  C.  Gottsched   162 

Christianus  Fiirchtegott  Gellert.     Haid's  mezzotint  after  the  painting  by 

Anton  Grafif 163 

Gellert's  Lecture  Room    164 

Caricature  of  Goethe.    By  Daniel  Maclise  after  a  similar  one  by  Thackeray  167 

Beethoven  in  the  Streets  of  Vienna.     Sketch  by  J.  P.  Lyser 167 

Duke  Karl  August  and  Goethe.     Engraving  by  Schwerdgeburth  169 

Johann  Friedrich  Cotta,  Baron  Cottendorf.    Goethe's  publisher  and  founder 

of  Die  Horen  170 

Goethe.     By  Rumpf  172 

The  Youthful  Priest   181 

Friedrich  Heinrich  Jacobi   186 

Johann  Kaspar  Lavater.     After  a  water  color  by  H.  Lips  194 

Prometheus  200 

Diana  of  the  Ephesians   209 

Goethe's  Poem  in  the  Hunter's  Hut  217 

Goethe  on  the  Gickelhahn  218 

The  Hunter's  Hut  on  the  Gickelhahn  near  Ilmenau.    After  a  photograph  .  219 

Leaf  from  Goethe's  Gingo  Tree   223 

Lasst  fahren  kin   (music)    226 

Friedrich  Wilhelm  Riemer   '. 235 

Friedrich  von  Mueller.     Drawing  by  Schmeller   236 

Albrecht  von  Haller   250 

A  Contemporary  Caricature    261 

Johann  Gottfried  von  Herder.    After  a  crayon  drawing  from  life  by  Burg  262 

Maler  Miiller.    Engraving  by  Ludwig  E.  Grimm,  1816 263 

Friedrich  Maximilian  Klinger.     Drawing  by  Goethe,  1775  263 

Friedrich  Schiller.     Drawing  by  Jagemann  264 

The  Young  Goethe.     Crayon  by  Johann  Hieronymus  Lips,   1791.   in   the 

Freie  deutsche  Hochstift  at  Frankfort   265 

August  Wilhelm  von  Schlegel.     Painting  by  Hoheneck  266 

Ludwig  Tieck.     Painting  by  Joseph  Stieler  267 

Heinrich  Heine.     Painting  by  Moritz  Oppenheim  270 


ILLUSTRATIONS.  xi 

PAGE 

Friedrich  von  Hardenberg  (Novalis) 271 

Karl  Friedrich  Bahrdt   275 

Witches  Celebrating  Walpurgis  Night.     By  Franz  Simm  284 

Pico  di  Mirandola   286 

Faust  Beholding  the  Emblem  of  the  Macrocosm.    After  P.  Rembrandt  .  .  288 

Faust  in  his  Study.     By  A.  von  Kreling  290 

Mephistopheles  and  the  Student.     By  A.  Liezen-Mayer  292 

Mephistopheles  at  the  Door  of  Faust's  Study.    By  A.  Liezen-Mayer 294 

Signing  the  Contract.     By  Franz  Simm  295 

Faust's  Last  Hours  and  Death  298 

Conjuring  the  Devil    299 

Studying  Black  Magic   299 

Some  Pleasantries  of  Black  Magic.     After  Scheible's  reproduction  from 

Widmann's  "Faust"   299 

Miracles    and    Conjuration.      After    Scheible's    reproductions    from    Wid- 

mann's  "Faust." 299 

Faust   Conjuring  Mephistopheles    300 

The  Legend  of  Theophilus   302 

Gretchen  in  Prison.  By  Franz  Simm  303 

Satan  Accusing  Job.    Fresco  by  Volterra  in  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa  .  . .   306 

Mephistopheles  Before  the  Lord.     By  Franz  Simm   307 

On  the  Wine  Cask.     By  Franz  Simm   313 

Faust  in  Auerbach's  Cellar.     Fresco   314 

The  Riotous  Students  and  Faust's  Escape.     After  P.  Cornelius   314 

The  Key 317 

Wagner  Preparing  his  Homunculus.     By  Franz  Simm   318 

Self-Satisfied.     By  Franz  Simm 319 

When  in  the  Infinite  Appeareth 330 

Time  Mows  Roses   332 

Many  Cooks  Will  Spoil  the  Broth   333 

Liegt  dir  Gestern  klar  und  off  en  (in  Goethe's  handwriting)    335 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 

C^INCE  it  is  not  our  intention  to  add  a  new  biography  of 
>«J3  Goethe  to  those  which  have  already  appeared,  we  will  here 
simply  recapitulate  for  our  readers  in  a  few  words  the  chief 
events  of  Goethe's  life,  and  point  out  the  personages  who  at  one 
time  or  another  played  a  part  in  it.  In  subsequent  chapters  we 
shall  supplement  our  meager  sketch  with  quotations  from  Goethe's 
autobiography  -of  such  passages  as  characterize  the  man,  his 
philosophical  thoughts,  his  religious  views,  and  his  maxims  on 
the  conduct  of  life. 

Goethe  was  the  first  and  only  son  of  Johann  Caspar  Goethe, 
a  Frankfort  magistrate  with  the  title  Counselor,  and  of  his  wife, 
Catharine  Elizabeth,  riee  Textor.  The  child  was  named  Johann 
Wolfgang,  after  his  maternal  grandfather  Textor. 

In  his  autobiography  "Truth  and  Fiction,"^  the  poet  speaks 
of  his  horoscope  which  he  describes  thus : 

"On  August  28,  1749,  at  midday  as  the  clock  was  striking 
twelve,  I  came  into  the  world  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main.  The 
position  of  the  heavenly  bodies  was  propitious :  the  sun  stood  in 
the  sign  of  the  Virgin  and  culminated  for  the  day;  Jupiter  and 
Venus  looked  on  the  sun  with  a  friendly  eye  and  Mercury  not 
adversely,  while  Saturn  and  Mars  remained  indifferent ;  the  moon 
alone,  just  full,  exerted  the  power  of  its  reflection  all  the  more 
as  it  had  then  reached  its  planetary  hour.  It  was  opposed,  there- 
fore, to  my  birth  which  could  not  be  accomplished  until  this  hour 
was  passed." 

^  Throughout  this  work  the  quotations  taken  from  Goethe's  Autobiography 
follow  mostly  the  translation  of  John  Oxenford,  with  occasional  minor  altera- 
tions. Those  taken  from  Faust  are  in  Bayard  Taylor's  poetical  version.  All 
the  translations  of  other  miscellaneous  poetry  have  been  made  by  the  present 
author,  except  where  expressly  credited  to  some  one  else. 


2  GOETHE. 

Ralph  Shirley,  the  editor  of  The  Occult  Review  and  an 
astrologer  by  conviction,  has  investigated  Goethe's  horoscope 
and  points  out  that  the  poet's  description  is  not  quite  accurate. 
We  reproduce  Goethe's  nativity  as  he  publishes  it,-  the  planetary 
positions  being  supplied  by  A.  J.  Pearce,  and  we  will  quote  Mr. 
Shirley's  comments  on  the  same  as  follows: 

^'Goethe  was  born  under  the  sign  of  the  Scorpion— the  night 


HOROSCOPE  OF  GOETHE. 
Cast  by  A.  J.  Pearce. 

house  of  the  planet  Mars— as  it  is  astrologically  designated, 
and  his  dominant  influences  were  Saturn  and  the  Sun.  The 
Sun  is  hyleg  or  life-giver  in  this  horoscope  owing  to  its  merid- 
ional position,  and  would  have  warranted  the  prediction  of  a 
long  life  in  spite  of  certain  constitutional  drawbacks. 

'The  mythological  Saturn  has  the  reputation  of  devouring 

""  The  Occult  Review,  May,  1908,  p.  257. 


THE   LIFE  OF   GOETHE. 


his  children  at  birth,  and  the  fact  that  Goethe  was  born  into  the 
world  'as  dead'  is  more  probably  attributable  to  the  closely 
ascending  position  of  the  malefic  planet  than  to  the  poet's  rather 
fanciful  suggestion  of  the  effect  of  the  (proximate)   full  Moon 


GOETHE'S  GRANDFATHER,  SCHULTHEISS  TEXTOR. 
After  a  painting  by  A.  Scheppen. 

"Fortunately  for  him  Goethe  was  not  left  entirely  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  planet  Saturn,  the  Sun,  Mercury  and  Venus 
all  being  notably  elevated  in  his  horoscope,  the  Sun  (as  he  in  this 
case  correctly  describes  it)    exactlv  culminating  in  the  sign  of 


GOETHE. 


the  Virgin,  and  indicating  thereby  success  and  the  'favor  of 
princes.'  Venus  occupied  the  mid-heaven  in  close  opposition  to 
Jupiter,  a  position  which  it  hardly  requires  an  astrologer  to 
interpret,  in  the  light  of  the  native's  life.'^    Mercury  was  posited 


GOETHE'S  GRANDMOTHER,  FRAU  ANNA  MARGARETHA  TEXTOR 

Artist  unknown. 

in  the  ninth  house,  the  house  of  religion,  philosophy  and  science 
— the  mental  trend,  as  one  may  say — in  the  ambitious  sign  Leo 

^  The  native  is  an  astrological  expression  for  the  individual  whose  horos- 
cope is  under  discussion.  "Saturn  culminated  in  conjunction  with  Venus  at 
Lord  Byron's  birth.  It  was  in  conjunction  with  Jupiter  at  the  birth  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield  and  also  of  Lord  Rosebery. 


THE   LIFE  OF   GOETHE.  5 

and  was  more  or  less  loosely  opposed  by  the  malefic  Uranus  which 
holds  rule  in  the  third  house,  denoting  'brethren'  and  'near  neigh- 
bors.' ^lars,  in  its  exaltation.  Lord  of  the  Ascendant  and  in 
trine  with  the  Sun,  occupies  the  second  house,  and  in  spite  of 
its  good  aspects  denies  the  accumulation  of  wealth. 

"I  do  not  think  any  astrologer  worthy  of  the  name  could 
have  looked  twice  at  Goethe's  horoscope  without  forecasting  a 


THE  GOETHE  HOMESTEAD  IN  ARTERN  ON  THE  UNSTRUT. 


high  position  and  notable  name.  There  are  practically  six  planets 
angular"*  (if  we  include  IMercury,  which  has  quite  recently  cul- 
minated). Jupiter  occupies  its  own  house  (Pisces)  and  the 
Moon,  Mars  and  Uranus  are  in  exaltation.  The  sign  rising, 
though  a  dangerous  one,  favors  the  attainment  of  fame  and 
notoriety.  The  closely  ascending  position  of  Saturn  recalls  the 
observation  of  the  eminent  Frenchman  on  first  seeing  Goethe, 

*To  have  many  planets  angular  is  considered  one  of  the  strongest  testi- 
monies of  a  notable  name.  The  Sun  and  Moon  are  reckoned  as  "planets" 
astrologically. 


6  GOETHE. 

'C'csf  un  Jwiiiinc  qui  a  cu  bcaiicoiip  dc  chagrins.'  It  also  accounts 
for  his  periods  of  intense  depression,  his  philosophic  outlook  and 
the  aloofness  of  his  intellectual  temperament,  and,  in  spite  of 
his  love  of  life  (indicated  hy  Venus  culminating  and  Scoq^io 
risiuQ-),   the  intense   seriousness  wliich   characterized  him. 


I* 


mr-'^'-'^  -  .?A. 


THE  TEXTOR  HOMESTEAD. 

"Saturn  is  par  excellence  the  philosopher's  planet.  Mentally 
it  typifies  deep  thought  and  the  serious  point  of  view.  Corre- 
sponding to  the  Greek  Kronos  (Time)  it  rules  all  such  things 
as  last  and  endure." 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


% 


>^.^ 


^X-'-f^^  5^ 


THE  GOETHE  HOUSE  AT  FRANKFORT  AS  IT  LOOKED  IN 

GOETHE'S  CHILDHOOD. 

Drawn  by  E.  Biichner. 


8 


GOETHE. 


Goethe's  father,  born  July  31,  1710,  was  the  son  of  a  tailor 
of  Mansfeld  who  had  settled  in  Frankfort.  He  in  his  turn 
was  the  son  of  a  horseshoer,  hailing  from  Artern  on  the  Unstrut. 
A  picture  is  preserved  of  the  home  of  Goethe's  grandfather 
in  Artern  on  the  Unstrut.  It  shows  a  very  simple  building,  but 
solidly  constructed.  The  smithy  appears  to  have  been  on  the 
ground  floor,  and  the  living  rooms  above  it  on  the  second  floor 
under  the  roof. 

Goethe's  mother,  the  daughter  of  Schultheiss   (i.  e.,  judge) 


FRANCOIS  DE  THEAS,  COUNT  OF  THORANE. 
Original  in  possession  of  Count  Sartoux  in  Moiians. 

Johann  Wolfgang  Textor,  was  born  in  December,   1731.      She 
was  married  to  the  Counselor  Goethe  on  August  20,  1748. 

Goethe  had  only  one  sister,  Cornelia,  who  was  born  two  years 
after  him  in  December,  1750.  A  later  chapter  will  treat  of  her 
personality  and  the  relations  between  the  brother  and  sister.^ 

sk  ^  ^ 

During  the  Seven  Years'  War  (1756  to  1763)  young  Wolf- 
'See  pp.  77-81. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  9 

gang  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Frederick  the  Great.  French 
troops  fighting  against  Prussia  occupied  Frankfort  for  some  time, 
and  the  boy  learned  much  through  contact  with  the  French, 
especially  through  Count  Thorane,  who  was  quartered  in  his 
parents'  home. 

We  call  this  French  officer  "Thorane"  although  his  real  name 
■was  Frangois  de  Theas,  Comte  de  Thoranc.  In  his  signatures 
the  c  was  commonly  misread  for  c,  and  e\en  the  regulations  pub- 
lished over  his  own  name  bear  the  wrong  spelling  "Thorane." 
The  mistake  has  been  perpetuated  in  Goethe's  work  "Truth  and 
Fiction,"  and  through  Goethe  it  became  the  established  spelling 


THE  RAHMHOF. 
Where  the  French  theater  at  Frankfort  was  estabhshed. 

so  that  the  correct  name  scarcely  identifies  the  man.  Incidentally 
we  will  mention  that  Thorane  did  not  die  in  the  \\>st  Indies  as 
Goethe  states,  but  returned  to  France  and  died  there  in  1794. 

At  the  time  of  the  French  occupation  young  Goethe  fre- 
quently visited  the  French  theater  in  Frankfort  and  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  French  boy  of  his  own  age,  the  son  of  an 

actress. 

*       *       * 

Goethe's  jolliest  comrade  in  Frankfort  was  a  certain  Johann 
Adam  Horn.  Goethe  mentions  his  merry  temperament  in  'Truth 
and  Fiction"  and  characterizes  him  in  these  words: 


10 


GOETHE 


''To  begin  with,  the  name  of  our  friend  Horn  gave  occasion 
for  all  sorts  of  jokes,  and  on  account  of  his  small  figure  he  was 
always  called  Hdrnchcn,  'Little  Horn.'  He  was,  in  fact,  the 
smallest  in  the  company.  Of  a  stout  but  pleasing  form,  with  a 
pug-nose  and  mouth  somewhat  pouting,  a  swarthy  complexion 
set  off  by  little  sparkling  eyes,  he  always  seemed  to  invite  laugh- 
ter.     His   little   compact   skull    was   thickly   covered   with   curly 


JOHANN  ADAM  HORN. 
After  a  drawing  by  Goethe. 

black  hair;  his  beard  was  prematurely  blue;  and  he  would  have 
liked  to  let  it  grow,  that,  as  a  comic  mask,  he  might  always  keep 
the  company  laughing.  For  the  rest,  he  was  neat  and  nimble, 
but  insisted  that  he  had  bandy  legs,  which  everybody  granted, 
since  he  was  bent  on  having  it  so,  but  about  which  many. a  joke 
arose ;  for,  since  he  was  in  request  as  a  very  good  dancer,  he 
reckoned  it  among  the  peculiarities  of  the   fair  sex,  that  they 


THE  LIFE  OF   GOETHE.  11 

always  liked  to  see  bandy  legs  on  the  floor.  His  cheerfulness 
was  indestructible,  and  his  presence  at  every  meeting  indispen- 
sable. We  two  kept  more  together  because  he  was  to  follow  me 
to  the  university ;  and  he  well  deserves  that  I  should  mention 
him  with  all  honor,  as  he  clung  to  me  for  many  years  with  in- 
finite love,  faithfulness,  and  patience." 

Goethe  wrote  some  poetry  in  this  hrst  period  of  his  life,  but 
most  of  it  he  did  not  deem  worthy  of  preservation;  and  what  we 
have,  the  "Poetical  Thoughts  on  the  Descent  of  Jesus  Christ  into 
Hell"   (1765),  is  not  very  promising. 

In  the  autumn  of  1765  Goethe  traveled  to  Leipsic  where  on 
October  19  he  was  enrolled  at  the  university.  His  father  wanted 
him  to  study  law  in  order  to  enable  him  to  hold  a  position  like 
himself  in  the  municipality  of  the  free  city  of  Frankfort,  but 
the  young  poet  preferred  the  study  of  belles  Icttrcs,  and  went  to 
Leipsic  with  the  intention  of  mapping  out  his  course  according 
to  his  own  inclinations.  The  professors  to  whom  he  made  known 
his  purpose  with  all  self-assurance  discouraged  him  in  his  zeal 
for  a  poetic  career,  and  the  result  was  a  compromise  by  which  he 
was  to  hear  lectures  on  philosophy  and  history  of  law  and  yet 
was  free  to  attend  Gellert's  course  in  the  historv  of  literature. 


Among  the  circle  of  Goethe's  friends  was  Behrisch,  a  dear 
companion  to  whom  he  dedicated  some  odes,  while  Johann  Georg 
Schlosser,  a  man  of  distinction,  afterwards  became  his  brother- 
in-law.  Some  of  the  professors  and  their  families  were  very 
kind  to  the  young  student,  and  Madame  Bohme  in  particular,  the 
wife  of  the  professor  of  history  and  public  law,  did  much  to 
mold  his  taste,  especially  with  regard  to  contemporary  poetry  of 
which  she  was  a  merciless  critic.  Finally  he  became  so  unsettled 
that,  as  he  says  in  "Truth  and  Fiction," 

'T  was  afraid  to  write  down  a  rhyme,  however  spontaneously 
it  presented  itself,  or  to  read  a  poem,  for  I  was  fearful  that  it 
might  please  me  at  the  time,  and  that  perhaps  immediately  after- 
wards, like  so  much  else,  I  should  be  forced  to  pronounce  it  bad." 

He  goes  on  to  say : 

'This  uncertainty  of  taste  and  judgment  disquieted  me  more 


12 


GOETHE. 


and  more  every  day,  so  that  at  last  I  fell  into  despair.  I  had 
brought  with  me  those  of  my  youthful  labors  which  I  thought 
the  best,  partly  because  I  hoped  to  get  some  credit  by  them, 
partly  that  I  might  be  able  to  test  my  progress  with  greater  cer- 
tainty. .  .  .However,  after  some  time  and  many  struggles,  I  con- 
ceived so  great  a  contempt  for  my  labors,  begun  and  ended,  that 
one  day  I  burnt  up  poetry  and  prose,  plans,  sketches,  and  proj- 


BURNTNG  HTS  YOUTHFUL  PRODUCTIONS. 


ects,  all  together  on  the  kitchen  hearth,  and  threw  our  good  old 
landlady  into  no  small  fright  and  anxiety  by  the  smoke  which 
filled  the  whole  house." 


The  Director  of  the  Academy  of  Arts,  Adam  Friedrich  Oeser, 
had  a  strong  influence  on  Goethe's  artistic  taste.  We  must  re- 
gard it  as  a  distinction  for  the  young  Goethe  that  he  had  ad- 
mission to  the   family  circle  of   Professor   Oeser  and   became 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


13 


acquainted  with  the  Frau  Professor  and  their  daughters.  It  was 
to  Fraulein  Friederike  EHsabeth  Oeser  that  Goethe  inscribed 
the  collection  of  songs  which  he  wrote  while  in  Leipsic. 

In  this  period  of  his  life  Goethe  wrote  'The  Whim  of  the 


FRIEDERIKE  ELISABETH  OESER. 
Etched  by  Banse  in  1777  from  a  painting  by  her  father,  Prof.  Adam 

Friedrich  Oeser. 

Lover"  (Die  Launc  dcs  Verliehten)  and  "The  Fellow  Culprits" 
{Die  Mitschiddigcn),  neither  of  which  is  worth  reading,  and  m 
Goethe's  own  interest  they  would  have  better  been  burned  with 
the  rest  of  his  youthful  effusions:  but  his  little  love  ditties  (Leip- 


14 


GOETHE. 


DISCUSSING   RELIGIOUS   QUESTIONS   WITH   THE   DRESDEN 

SHOEMAKER. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  15 

siger  Liederhiich,   1769)    which  date   from  this  period  indicate 
that  something  better  was  to  be  expected  of  him  in  the  future. 


We  must  not  forget  to  mention  Goethe's  excursion  to  Dres- 
den which  he  undertook  in  order  to  acquaint  himself  with  the 
art  treasures  of  the  Saxon  capital.  It  is  characteristic  of  Goethe 
that  he  always  took  an  interest  in  original  personalities,  whether 
of  a  high  or  lowly  position  in  life.  A  fellow  lodger  who  was 
a  student  of  theology  at  Leipsic  had  a  friend  in  Dresden,  a  poor 
cobbler  whose  letters  exhibited  a  peculiar  religious  disposition 
and  good  common  sense  based  upon  a  serene  conception  of  life. 
To  use  Goethe's  own  words  he  was  ''a  practical  philosopher  and 
unconscious  sage."  Having  arrived  in  Dresden  Goethe  visited 
the  pious  cobbler  and  his  wife,  and  at  once  made  friends  with 
both  of  them  by  entering  into  their  views  of  life.  He  stayed 
with  them  during  his  sojourn  in  Dresden  and  describes  vividly 
the  conversation  with  his  religious  friends. 

The  end  of  Goethe's  stay  in  Leipsic  was  darkened  by  a  serious 
illness  which  began  with  a  violent  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs.  As 
soon  as  he  w^as  able  to  make  the  journey  he  left  the  university, 
August  28,  1768,  for  his  home  in  Frankfort. 


When  he  had  entirely  recovered  from  his  illness,  his  father 
decided  to  send  him  to  the  University  of  Strassburg. 

At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  Strassburg  w^as  con- 
siderably smaller  than  now,  while  its  fortifications  were  much 
more  extensive.  They  have  fallen  since  the  German  occupation 
in  1871.  Though  the  city  belonged  to  France,  the  life  of  the 
inhabitants  was  German  in  a  marked  degree.  Only  the  govern- 
ment was  French,  and  so  French  was  the  official  language  used 
in  documents. 

Goethe  became  a  student  at  the  Strassburg  University  on  his 
birthday,  August  28,  1770.  Here  he  became  acquainted  with  a 
number  of  interesting  men.  First  among  them  we  mention 
Herder,  a  few  years  his  senior,  who  awakened  in  him  a  deep  in- 
terest in  the  problems  of  life,  notably  the  origin  of  language. 


16 


GOETHE. 


Through  Goethe's  influence  Herder  was  later  on  called  to  Wei- 
mar in  the  capacity  of  Superintendent  General  of  the  church 
of  the  duchy.  Another  friend  of  Goethe's  during  his  stay  at 
Strassburg  was  Lerse,  a  brave  and  honest  young  man,  whose 
name  is  immortalized  in  Goethe's  first  drama  as  one  of  the  char- 
acters of  the  play.     Still  others  are  the  actuary  Salzmann,  the 


BIRD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  STRASSBURG. 
From  an  old  hymn-book. 

poet  Lenz  and  Jung-Stilling,  a  self-educated  author  of  remark- 
able talent  and  a  pious  Christian. 

Johann  Heinrich  Jung  (1740-1817)  was  originally  a  char- 
coal burner,  then  a  tailor,  then  a  village  schoolmaster  and  finally 
under  great  tribulation  attained  his  aim  to  study  medicine.  Count- 
ing himself  among  the  members  of  the  pious  sect  called  Die 
Stillen  im  Lande,  ''the  Quiet-in-the-Land,"  he  adopted  the  sur- 
name "Stilling."     In  spite  of  their  marked  diversity  in  character 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


17 


Goethe  showed  a  great  interest  and  even  admiration  for  Jung- 
StilHng's  naive  piety  and  simple-minded  faith. 

The  Strassburg  Cathedral  made  a  deep  impression  on  Goethe 
and  induced  him  to  compare  architecture  with  other  arts,  espe- 
cially music.     His  acquaintance  with,  and  love  of,  the  Gothic 


JACOB    MICHAEL   REINHOLD    LENZ. 
After  a  drawing  by  Pfenninger  in  Lavater's  Collection. 

Style  taught  him  that  beauty  is  not  limited  to  one  expression 
and  that  besides  the  art  of  ancient  Greece  there  are  other  possi- 
bilities of  developing  classical  beauty. 

It  was  during  the  year  of  Goethe's  student-life  at  Strassburg 


18 


GOETHE. 


that  his  romance  with  Friederike  Brion*^  of  Sesenheim  took  place. 
So  dearly  did  he  cherish  the  memory  of  this  idyllic  courtship 
that  the  reader  of  his  autobiography,  written  when  the  poet  was 
over  sixty  years  of  age,  still  feels  the  throb  of  his  heart  in  the 
description. 

On  August  6,  1771,  Goethe  underwent  the  ordeal  of  his  rigo- 
rosimi,  an  examination  for  tlie  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws;  but 
history  is  silent  on  tlie  result.     A\diether  he  passed  or  not  is  not 


JOHANN    HEINRICH    JUNG-STILLTNG. 
By  H.  Lips,  1801. 

definitely  known.  One  thing  only  is  certain  :  the  incident  plays  no 
part  in  his  after  life.  He  is  neither  congratulated  by  his  friends 
or  relatives  on  his  graduation,  nor  does  he  ever  claim,  let  alone 
use,  the  title,  nor  was  he  ever  officially  addressed  as  Doctor.  It 
is  true  that  in  the  intimate  circle  of  his  friends  at  Wetzlar  he  was 
called  ''Doctor  Goethe,"  but  these  incidents  are  not  convincing 
because  it  may  have  l)een  a  nickname  which  had  found  its  way 
'  See  pp.  84-95. 


THE  LIFE  OF   GOETHE. 


19 


into  the  nursery  of  the  Buff  family,  and  it  is  well  known  that 
Goethe  could  take  a  joke  with  good  grace.  The  university 
records  which  could  decide  the  problem  are  no  longer  in  exist- 
ence.    All  this  makes  it  not  impossible,  nay  even  probable,  that 


GOETHE'S  RESIDENCE  WHEN  A  STUDENT. 
On  the  Old  Fish  INIarket  in  Strassburg. 


he  actually  failed.  It  is  not  uncommon  that  great  men  are  not 
made  for  examinations,  they  show  off  to  better  advantage  in  life: 
and  on  the  other  hand  professors  are  frequently  mistaken  in 
their  estimate  of  a  young  man  who,  somehow,  is  able  to  take 


20 


GOETHE. 


high  standing  in  these  mechanical  tests,  yet  is  a  disappointment 
later  on. 

Besides   some   pretty   poems    inspired   by   Friederike    Brion, 


MARIA   CAROLINE  FLACHSLAND. 
(Afterwards  Frau  Herder.) 

Goethe  wrote  his  Roslein  auf  dcr  Haidcn  in   Strassburg,   and 
it  was  there  that  he  first  conceived  the  plan  of  Faust. 

*       *       * 

Having  returned  to  Frankfort  August  1771,  Goethe  finished 
the  first  draft  of  G'ots  von  Berlichingcn  within  six  weeks,  and 


THE  LIFE  OF   GOETHE. 


21 


had  it  published  in  the  fall  of  1772.     It  at  once  established  its 
author's  fame. 

Still  in  the  year  1771,  on  a  trip  to  Darmstadt,  Goethe  became 
acquainted  with  a  circle  of  friends  among  whom  we  note  Caro- 
line Flachsland,  a  lady  of  good  education  who  was  engaged  to 
be  married  to  Herder.  There  he  met  also  Johann  Heinrich 
Merck  (1741-1791  )   a  qmestor  in  the  war  department  who  was 


JOHANX  HEINRICH  MERCK. 

easily  the  keenest  critic  of  the  age,  and  had  been  drawn  to  the 
capital  of  Hesse-Darmstadt  by  the  cultured  Landgravine  Catha- 
rine. Merck  was  attracted  to  Goethe  and  became  one  of  his  most 
intimate  friends.  He  never  hesitated  to  criticize  him  severely 
whenever  he  was  dissatisfied  with  the  poet,  and  Goethe  was  wise 
enough  to  heed  his  advice,  nor  did  he  take  offence  when  Merck 


22 


GOETHE. 


would  say  on  some  occasion :  *'You  must  not  write  such  stuff 
again !"  Merck's  character  contributed  some  of  the  satirical  fea- 
tures with  which  Goethe  endowed  his  Mephistopheles.  His  life 
came  to  a  tragic  end  on  June  27,  1791,  when  he  committed 
suicide. 

Goethe  loved  to  walk  great  distances,  and  on  a  tramp  from 
Frankfort  to  Darmstadt  in  1771  he  composed  the  poem  Wan- 
derers Stinuilied. 

In  the  spring  (May  1772)  Goethe  went  to  Wetzlar,  a  small 
town  where  an  imperial  court  of  justice  had  been  established. 
It  was  customary  in  those  days  for  young  Frankfort  lawyers 
to  attend  these  courts  before  they  were  admitted  to  the  bar  in 
their  own  citv. 


VIEW  OF  WETZLAR  FROM  THE  SOUTH. 

Leaving  Wetzlar  September  11,  1772,  Goethe  returned  to 
Frankfort  and  settled  there  as  an  attorney-at-law.  Soon  after- 
wards he  heard  of  the  death  of  Jerusalem,  one  of  his  Leipsic 
student  friends.  Carl  Wilhelm  Jerusalem  was  born  March  21, 
1747,  at  Wolfenbiittel,  and  in  1771  had  been  made  secretary  of 
the  subdelegation  of  Brunswick-Wolfenbiittel.  He  suffered  from 
melancholy  and,  having  begun  to  doubt  the  historicity  of  the 
New  Testament,  had  lost  his  comfort  in  the  Christian  religion. 
But  the  climax  of  his  despair  was  reached  because  of  his  affec- 
tion for  Frau  Herdt,  the  wife  of  his  friend,  the  Ambassador  of 
the  Palatine  Electorate.  Under  pretense  of  making  a  journey, 
he  borrow^ed  a  pair  of  pistols  from  Kestner,  then  secretary  of 
the  Bremen  subdelegation,  and  shot  himself  in  the  night  of  Oc- 


THE   LIFE  OF   GOETHE. 


23 


tober   30,    1772.      Lessing   acknowledged   with   unstinted   praise 
the  extraordinary  reasoning  power  and  deep  sentiment  of  Jeru- 


CARL  WILHELM  JERUSALEM  AS  A  CHILD. 


salem  and  raised  the  best  possible  memorial  to  him  by  publishing 
his  "Philosophical  Essays." 


24 


GOETHE. 


Jerusalem's  death,  together  with  his  own  interest  in  Char- 
lotte BuffJ  suggested  to  Goethe  the  plan  of  his  novel,  'The 
Sorrows  of  Young  Werther,"  which  he  wrote  in  1774  within 
four  weeks  and  had  it  published  at  once.  It  created  a  sensation 
throughout  Germany,  and  though  it  was  severely  criticized  it 
permanently  established  his  fame  as  an  author. 


JOHANN  CHRISTIAN  KESTNER. 
After  a  lithograph  by  JuHus  Giere  made  from  an  oil  painting  in  the  possession 

of  Georg  Kestner  of  Dresden. 

Though  we  recognize  the  unusual  ability  which  Goethe 
showed  in  this  book,  we  will  grant  that  its  influence  on  the 
younger  generation  of  Germany  was  very  injurious.     Suicides 

'  See  pp.  99-100. 


1 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


25 


of  sentimental  lovers  increased  to  a  most  alarming  extent,  one 
of  the  best  known  of  which  was  the  death  of  Herr  von  Kleist 


WERTHER'S  LOTTA. 
By  Kaulbach. 

and  the  wife  of  one  of  his  friends.     It  took  some  time  before  the 
literary  world  overcame  this  pathological  hankering  after  a  senti- 


26 


GOETHE. 


CHRISTOPH  FRIEDRICH  NICOLAI. 
Haid's  engraving  after  a  drawing  of  Chodowiecki. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


27 


mental  death  of  unfortunate  lovers.  Goethe  himself  knew  that 
his  books  were  not  for  everybody,  and  he  said  in  reply  to  one 
of  his  critics,  a  narrow  but  haughty  pietist : 

By  the  conceited  man — by  him 

I'm  dangerous  proclaimed; 

The  wight  uncouth  who  cannot  swim, 

By  him  the  water's  blamed. 

That  Berlin  pack — priest-ridden  lot — 

Their  ban  I  am  not  heeding ; 

And  he  who  understands  me  not 

Ought  to  improve  in  reading. 


JOYS  OF  YOUNG  WERTHER. 

Chodowiecki's  vignette  on  the  title  page  of  Nicolai's  satire. 


While  the  ''Sorrows  of  Young  Werther"  may  be  regarded  as 
subject  to  criticism,  we  ought  to  mention  that  the  book  received 
quite  undeserved  condemnation  at  the  hands  of  Christoph  Fried- 
rich  Nicolai,  a  publisher  and  author  who  at  that  time  possessed 
considerable  influence  in  Germany.  Nicolai,  born  March  18,  1733, 
at  Berlin,  was  a  leading  representative  of  the  eighteenth-century 
rationalism,  but  he  was  narrow  in  his  views  and  his  prosaic 
nature   had   no   sense    for   religious   mysticism   or   any   poetical 


28  GOETHE. 

enthusiasm.  He  did  not  even  understand  the  psychical  aspect 
of  Werther's  sentimentaHsm  and  condemned  his  melancholy  as 
simply  due  to  costiveness.  In  contrast  to  the  ''Sorrows  of  Young 
Werther,"  Nicolai  pubhshed  a  parody,  ''The  Joys  of  Young 
Werther,"  for  which  Chodowiecki  engraved  a  title  vignette. 
Goethe  expresses  himself  about  this  satire  in  his  "Truth  and 
Fiction"  as  follows :  "  'The  Joys  of  Young  Werther,'  in  which 
Nicolai  distinguishes  himself,  gave  us  an  opportunity  for  several 
jokes.  This  man,  otherwise  good,  meritorious  and  learned,  had 
begun  to  suppress  and  ignore  everything  that  did  not  agree  with 
his  views,  which  he  in  his  mental  limitations  regarded  as  the  only 
true  and  genuine  ones.  Against  me  also  he  had  to  try  his  hand, 
and  his  brochure  soon  came  into  our  hands.  The  very  delicate 
vignette  of  Chadowiecki  gave  me  great  pleasure,  for  I  esteem 
this  artist  beyond  measure.  The  production  itself,  however,  was 
cut  out  of  coarse  cloth,  which  the  common  sense  of  his  surround- 
ings took  great  pains  to  manufacture  most  crudely." 

Goethe  answered  Nicolai's  criticism  in  the  same  tone  by  a 
humorous  quatrain  entitled  "At  Werther's  Grave,"  in  which  a 
visitor  to  the  cemetery  where  the  ashes  of  the  unhappy  k^ver 
repose  declares  that  he  would  still  be  alive  if  he  had  enjoyed  a 
good  digestion. 

Goethe  began  his  great  drama  Gotz  von  Berlichingen  at  the 
end  of  1771;  he  finished  it  in  1772  and  submitted  it  in  manu- 
script to  Herder,  but  when  Herder  called  the  poet's  attention  to 
its  shortcomings  Goethe  recast  the  whole,  mercilessly  canceled 
long  passages  and  introduced  new  material.  In  this  revised 
shape  he  had  it  printed  at  his  own  expense  in  June  1773,  because 
he  could  not  find  a  publisher  in  Germany  who  would  risk  its 
publication. 

Many  men  of  prominence  had  become  interested  in  Goethe 
and  visited  him  in  his  father's  home.  Among  them  must  be 
mentioned  first  Johann  Caspar  Lavater  (1741-1801),  a  pious 
pastor  of  Zurich,  and  Johann  Bernhard  Basedow,  an  educator 
of  Hamburg.  In  company  with  these  two  men,  both  with  out- 
spoken theological  interests,  the  young  worldling,  as  Goethe 
called  himself  in  a  poem  of  that  period,  undertook  a  trip  along 
the  Rhine  in  the  summer  of  1774.     On  this  journey  they  visited 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  29 

Friedrich  Heinrich  Jacobi  (1743-1819)  on  his  estate  at  Pempel- 
fort  near  Diisseldorf. 

Lavater  was  a  well-known  pulpiteer  and  a  pioneer  in  the 
study  of  physiognomy,  a  subject  in  which  Goethe  too  was  inter- 
ested ;  and  Basedow  the  founder  of  an  educational  institution 
called  the  Philanthropin.  Jacobi  had  deep  philosophical  interests 
and  regarded  himself  as  a  disciple  of  Spinoza,  whose  philosophy, 
however,  he  accepted  only  so  far  as  it  could  be  made  to  agree 
with  a  childlike  belief  in  God,  for  he  was  no  less  a  faithful 
Christian  than  his  friend  Lavater.  Goethe,  an  ardent  admirer 
of  Spinoza,  differed  from  Jacobi  on  theism,  but  in  spite  of  tran- 


JOHANN  BERNHARD  BASEDOW. 

sient  misunderstandings  they  remained  good  friends  for  the  rest 
of  their  lives. 

In  October  1774  Klopstock,  the  author  of  the  ''Messiade" 
which  corresponds  to  Milton's  ''Paradise  Lost"  and  ''Paradise 
Regained,"  called  on  Goethe, — a  great  distinction,  as  at  that  time 
he  was  the  greatest  poet  of  Germany,  but  now  Avhen  Goethe's 
fame  has  so  far  eclipsed  that  of  Klopstock  it  is  difficult  to  appre- 
ciate the  fact. 

By  far  the  most  important  visit  which  Goethe  received — 
important  through  its  consequences — was  that  of  Karl  Ludw^ig 
von  Knebel,  tutor  of  Prince  Constantine,  the  second  son  of  the 
Duchess   Dowager,   Anna   Amalia   of   Saxe-Weimar.      He   was 


30 


GOETHE. 


accompanied  by  both  princes,  Karl  August  being  at  that  time 
seventeen  years  of  age.     The  duchess-mother,  a  noble  woman 


^v«^.-.-  '-  ■-  •  •-.■«S-X- 


V-.-. •: ;;-.  ,jux;^«^iw*«»f .*;»Wa?SK'--  -  .i.gycFMj8;iipij)jy jjpi IJ^IIJS^eggBt^WSfSy^jjIjf 


KARL  LUDWIG  VON  KNEBEL. 

Drawn  by  Schmeller,  1824. 

of  refined  literary  taste,  the  daughter  of  Duke  Karl  of  Brunswick 
and  a  sister  of  Frederick  the  Great,  had  called  Wieland  to  Wei- 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


31 


mar  from  the  University  of  Erfurt  to  educate  her  oldest  son 
Prince  Karl  August,  the  heir  apparent  to  the  duchy.  When  the 
Duke  became  of  age,  Wieland  was  made  Court  Councilor  and 
lived  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  on  an  estate  near  Weimar, 
where  he  died  January  21,  1813. 

In  April  1775  occurred  Goethe's  brief  engagement  to  Lili 
Schoenemann,'^  and  we  have  a  number  of  poems  and  songs  of 
this  period  inspired  by  the  acquaintance  and  dedicated  to  her. 

In  the  summer  of  1775  Goethe  made  a  journey  to  Switzerland 


CHRISTIAN  COUNT  STOLBERG 
After  a  painting  by  Groger. 


FRIEDRICH  LEOPOLD   COUNT 

STOLBERG. 

After  a  painting  by  Rincklacke. 


in  company  with  the  two  counts  Stolberg.  In  Zurich  he  visited 
his  friends  Jakob  Bodmer  and  Lavater.  The  Stolberg  brothers. 
Christian  and  Friedrich  Leopold,  were  members  of  the  Gottingen 
Fraternity  of  the  Grove  (Hambund),  an  association  of  young 
poets,  all  admirers  of  Klopstock.  Count  Friedrich  von  Stolberg, 
following  his  mystic  inclination  and  frightened  away  from  lib- 
eralism through  the  French  Revolution,  later  became  a  convert 
to  Roman  Catholicism. 
'  See  pp.  103-105. 


2,2 


GOETHE. 


Other  visitors  of  distinction  who  sought  the  personal  ac- 
quaintance of  the  new  star  that  had  risen  on  the  horizon  of  Ger- 
man Hterature  were  Heinrich  Christian  Boie  (1744-1806),  the 
editor  of  the  Musenalmauach  (1770-1775),  and  of  the  Gottinger 
Deutsche  Museum  (1776-1791),^  Gerstenberg  (1737-1823)  the 
author  of  the  bizarre  story  UgoUno  and  of  other  poetry,  Johann 


CHRISTOPH  MARTIN  WIELAND. 

Georg  Zimmermann,  Court  Physician  at  Hanover,  author  of  a 
book  *'On  Sohtude"  (1756)  and  on  ''Experience  in  Medical  Art" 
(1763). 

A  center  for  literary  activity  in  which  Goethe  and  his  friends 
(Merck,  Lenz,  Herder,  Klinger,  etc.)  took  an  active  part  was 
the  Frankfurter  Gelehrten-Anzeiger,  founded  in  1772. 

In  1774  Goethe  published  his  tragedy  "Clavigo,"  which  in 

"  Since  1788  called  Neues  Deutsches  Museum. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  33 

1775  was  followed  by  a  drama  entitled  "Stella. "^^  Neither  of 
them  is  important  and  Goethe  himself  cared  little  for  them. 
A  farce,  "Gods,  Heroes  and  Wieland"  (1774),  though  in  sub- 
stance a  just  criticism  of  Wieland,  was  too  personal  in  its  form 
and  might  better  have  been  left  unwritten.  To  Wieland's  credit 
it  may  be  stated  that  he  did  not  retaliate,  and  recognized  the 
greatness  of  the  young  Goethe  without  a  grudge.  The  two  poets 
were  afterwards  the  best  of  friends,  and  Goethe  learned  from 
this  experience  moderation  in  his  criticism. 

Of  great  interest  and  remarkable  for  its  wit  is  Goethe's  satire 
on  the  higher  criticism  of  the  New  Testament  directed  against 
Bahrdt.^^  At  the  same  time  (1773-1774)  his  soul  was  stirred 
with  plans  of  great  works,  on  such  subjects  as  Faust,  Socrates, 
Prometheus,  Ahasverus  the  Wandering  Jew,  and  Mahomet,  but 
only  Faust  reached  completion  (though  much  later),  while  the 
other  topics  afforded  him  material  for  poems  of  great  depth  of 
thought  in  a  smaller  compass. 


The  young  Duke  Karl  August,  who  on  becoming  of  age 
had  ascended  the  throne  of  Saxe- Weimar,  called  on  Goethe  in 
Frankfort,  and  on  his  return  after  his  marriage  on  October  3, 
1775,  to  Louise,  the  daughter  of  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse-Darm- 
stadt, he  invited  the  poet  for  a  visit  to  Weimar,  his  Thuringian 
capital.  The  bride's  mother,  the  Landgravine  Catherine,  had 
during  her  life  surrounded  herself  with  a  literary  circle  and  was 
a  patron  of  German  poetry.  She  had  died  in  1774,  but  her 
daughter  Louise  had  inherited  her  literary  tastes,  and  in  this  she 
agreed  with  her  noble  mother-in-law,  the  Duchess  Dowager 
Amalia,  and  also  with  her  young  husband,  Duke  Karl  August 
of  Weimar.  The  result  was  auspicious,  for  it  made  Weimar  the 
center  of  the  development  of  German  literature. 

Goethe  reached  Weimar  in  the  autumn  of  1775.  He  was 
received  as  a  welcome  guest,  and  the  time  was  spent  in  festivals, 
journeys,  outings,  skating  parties,  rural  dances  and  masquerades; 
and  there  was  some  danger  that  these  pleasures  would  prove  the 

"  "Stella"  was  changed  in  later  years  into  a  tragedy. 
"  For  a  translation  of  this  satire  see  pp.  276-278. 


34 


GOETHE. 


ruin  of  Goethe's  genius.  It  seemed  as  if  the  spirit  of  Storm  and 
Stress  had  upset  all  Weimar,  and  Goethe  himself  felt  that  they 
had  carried  their  wanton  madness  too  far. 

In  1776  Goethe  felt  a  desire  to  settle  in  Weimar  even  before 


KARL  AUGUST,  DUKE  OF  SAXE  WEIMAR. 
Drawing  from  life  by  Lips,  1780. 

his  friend  the  Duke  had  offered  him  a  position,  and  he  had 
acquired  a  small  house,  the  surrounding  garden  of  which  was  in 
a  wild  neglected  state.  This  property,  ''the  garden  on  the  Horn," 
was  announced  for  sale  in  the  local  paper  and  Goethe  bought  it 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


35 


for  $450.00  (600  thalers),  what  was  then  considered  a  high 
price. ^-  It  was  deeded  to  him  on  April  22,  and  he  moved  into 
it  on  I\Iav  18.     Goethe  greatly  loved  his  little  property  and  spent 


much  time  and  attention  on  its  improvement.  Beneath  a  sketch 
of  it  drawn  by  Otto  Wagner  in  1827  he  wrote  the  following 
"verse : 

'^Here  we  follow  the  authority  of  Wilhelm  Bode  (Damals  in  Weimar, 
p.  57),  while  Konnecke  in  his  Bildcratlas  states  that  this  garden  was  a  gift  to 
the  poet  from  the  Duke. 


36 


GOETHE. 


Arrogant  'tis  surely  not, 
This  house  in  quiet  garden  spot, 
All  the  friends  who  visit  here 
Never  fail  to  find  good  cheer. 

It  was  here  in  1778  that  Goethe  wrote  his  beautiful  poem 
"To  the  Moon." 

In  June  Karl  August  offered  the  poet  an  appointment  in  the 
government  of  the  small  state  with  the  title  of  Councilor  and  a 
salary  of  1200  thalers.  This  was  the  beginning  of  his  career 
in  the  Duke's  service,  and  the  city  of  Weimar  remained  his 
residence   ever   afterward.      In    1779   Goethe   was   made   Privy 


GOETHE'S  COAT  OF  ARMS. 

Councilor  and  in  1782  Emperor  Joseph  II  conferred  upon  him 
the  rank  of  nobility  with  a  coat  of  arms  showing  a  silver  star 
on  a  blue  field. 

In  1777  Goethe  began  to  take  his  duties  seriously  and  tried  to 
be  of  service  to  the  Duke.  His  salary  was  increased  in  1781  to 
1400  thalers,  in  1785  to  1600,  and  in  1816  to  3000  thalers  per 
annum.  He  did  not,  however,  forget  his  literary  interests,  al- 
though for  a  while  he  was  more  receptive  than  productive. 

To  this  period  belong  the  several  poems  dedicated  to  Frau 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  37 

von  Stein, ^^  and  also  the  beautiful  songs  incorporated  in  Wil- 
helm  Meister,  "He  Only  Who  Knows  Longing's  Pain,"  and 
*'Who  Never  Ate  his  Bread  with  Tears,"  besides  the  ballads 
"The  Fisher,"  "The  Singer,"  "Limits  of  Mankind"  and  "The 
Divine."  New  plans  were  conceived  which  gradually  took  a 
definite  shape,  among  them  "Tasso,"  "Wilhelm  Meister,"  "Eg- 
mont"  and  "Iphigenia  in  Tauris." 

•^        ■jf.        ■jf. 

An  influential  citizen  of  Weimar  during  Goethe's  residence 
there  was  Friedrich  Justin  Bertuch,  a  self-made  man  who  was 
the  leading  spirit  in  many  enterprises  both  commercial  and  lit- 
erary. At  the  age  of  twenty-six  he  was  a  translator  and  play- 
wright. He  was  appointed  private  secretary  to  the  duke  and 
had  charge  of  his  private  treasury.  Later  on  he  became  the  pub- 
lisher, among  other  things,  of  Die  Jenaischc  Literatur::eiUing. 
He  founded  the  geographical  institute,  and  helped  many  poor 
authors.  He  was  particularly  fortunate  in  building  a  high  grade  of 
houses.  His  taste  was  so  refined  that  Schiller  in  1787  spoke  of 
Bertuch's  own  house  as  "unquestionably  the  most  beautiful  house 
in  Weimar."  The  beauty,  however,  appears  mainly  in  the  in- 
terior and  in  the  arrangement  of  the  garden  and  its  pond.  One 
of  his  industrial  interests  was  a  flower  manufactory,  where  Chris- 
tiana Vulpius  found  employment  before  Goethe's  intimacy  with 
her.  During  the  terrors  of  the  war  Mr.  Bertuch  was  one  of  the 
citizens  of  Weimar  who  still  continued  to  employ  labor,  and  it 
is  stated  that  450  people  were  dependent  on  him  at  that  time. 
In  the  reconstruction  period  after  the  war  Bertuch  was  one  of 
the  most  active  men,  and  at  Goethe's  suggestion  he  was  elected 
Grand  Master  of  the  masonic  lodge,  in  which  capacity  he  induced 
Wieland  to  join  the  lodge  although  he  had  long  been  an  opponent 
of  masonry.  Wieland  was  officially  buried  by  the  Masons  from 
the  house  of  Bertuch,  which  was  appropriately  decorated  for  the 
occasion. 

In  1779  Goethe  made  another  journey  to  Switzerland,  this 
time  with  the  Duke  in  strict  incognito.  On  his  way  he  spent  two 
days  with  his  parents  at  Frankfort  and  paid  a  visit  to  Friederike 

"See  pp.  119-121  and  140-142. 


38  GOETHE. 

at  Sesenheim.  At  Strassburg  he  called  on  Lili  Schonemann,  who 
was  happily  married  and  had  just  become  the  mother  of  a  baby. 
/\t  the  Staubbach,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  cataracts,  he  com- 
posed the  poem  ''Song  of  the  Spirits  Over  the  Water."  On  his 
return  they  passed  through  Constance,  saw  the  falls  of  the  Rhine, 
visited  Stuttgart  and  attended  a  meeting  of  the  scholars  of  the 
Wiirttemberg  Military  Academy  (December  14,  1779)  which 
was  in  so  far  remarkable  as  on  this  day  in  Goethe's  presence  a 
prize  was  awarded  to  a  youth  who  was  destined  to  become  his 
best  and  greatest  friend.     It  was  Friedrich  Schiller. 

January  13,  1780,  Goethe  returned  to  Weimar.  He  began 
his  "Tasso,"  a  drama  in  which  two  characters  reflected  the  double 
part  which  Goethe  himself  was  playing  at  the  time,  a  poet  and  a 
diplomat  or  courtier.  At  the  same  time  he  was  engaged  in  an 
elaborate  novel,  ''Wilhelm  Meister." 

In  1782,  on  March  25,  Goethe's  father  died. 

In  1785  Goethe  visited  Karlsbad,  where  he  met  Herder  and 
also  some  of  the  ladies  of  Weimar,  notably  the  Duchess  Louise 
and  Frau  von  Stein. 

In  July  1786  he  revisited  Karlsbad  and  left  secretly  for  his 
beloved  Italy  in  August,  traveling  under  the  name  of  Miiller. 
He  reached  the  country  of  his  dreams  in  September  and  stayed 
there  until  April  1788. 

The  country  and  its  traditions  were  so  congenial  to  him  that 
he  felt  ''as  if  he  had  been  born  and  raised  there  and  had  only 
come  back  to  his  home  from  an  expedition  to  Greenland."  In 
Rome  he  tarried  twice,  for  he  loved  "the  capital  of  the  world" 
and  declared  that  "there  is  but  one  Rome."  He  finished  in 
Italy  his  versified  rendition  of  "Iphigenia"  and  his  "Egmont." 
He  also  worked  diligently  on  "Tasso"  and  "Faust." 

In  Rome  Goethe  met  an  Italian  copper  engraver,  Giovanni 
Volpato,  who  was  director  of  a  school  of  engraving.  He  was 
born  1733  at  Bassano  and  died  August  26,  1803.  At  the  time 
Goethe  was  staying  at  Rome  a  beautiful  young  Milanese  girl, 
Maddalena  Riggi,  was  visiting  with  friends  there,  and  Goethe 
became  acquainted  with  her  in  1787  at  Castle  Candolfo  while 
the  guest  of  a  wealthy  English  art  dealer  whose  name  was 
Jenkins.     Goethe  took  a  great  fancy  to  this  Italian  beauty  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


39 


40 


GOETHE. 


immortalized  her  in  a  poem  entitled  ''Second  Sojourn  in  Rome." 
But  this  episode  was  of  a  passing  nature,  for  Maddalena  very 
soon  afterwards,  in  1788,  married  the  son  of  Volpato,  the  en- 


GOETHE   IN   ROME. 
Drawing  by  Tischbein,  1787. 

graver,  and  after  his  death  she  married  the  architect  Francesco 
Finucci. 

Among  prominent  Germans  whom  Goethe  met  in  Rome  must 
be  mentioned  the  famous  artists,  Angelica  Kauffmann,  Philipp 
Hackert,  and  Tischbein. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


41 


Goethe  returned  to  Weimar  on  June  18,  1788,  and  it  was  in 
the  same  year  that  he  met  Christian  August  Vulpius  (1762- 
1827),  whose  sister  Christiana^"^  was  for  many  years  his  faithful 
housekeeper  and  later  hecame  his  wife.     Vulpius  was  a  poet  of 


some  talent.  How  popular  he  was  as  a  playwright  can  be  de- 
duced from  the  fact  that  his  name  appears  in  the  repertoire 
forty-six  times  to  twenty  times  of  Goethe's,  but  his  dramas  are 


See  pp.  121-124. 


42 


GOETHE. 


forgotten,  only  his  song  of  the  robber  Rinaldo  Rinaldini  sur- 
viving, and  even  that  merely  as  a  humorous  specimen  of  anti- 
quated taste. 

On  Christmas  day,  1789,  Goethe's  only  son  was  born,  and  in 


MADDALENA  RIGGI. 
After  a  painting  by  Angelica  Katiffmann.* 

baptism  received  the  name  August  after  his  godfather,  the  Duke 
Karl  August. 

In  the  spring  of  1 790  Goethe  traveled  to  Venice  v^here  he  met 
the  Duchess  Amalia  on  her  homeward  wav  from  Italv.  In  the 
fall  he  accompanied  the  Duke  to  Silesia. 

*  There  are  two  copies  in  existence,  one  in  the  possession  of  Dr.  Werner 
Weisbach  of  Berlin,  the  other  of  Rudolf  Rieter-Ziegler  of  Winterthur. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


43 


In  the  same  year  he  wrote  his  poem  "The  Metamorphosis  of 
Plants"  in  illustration  of  the  doctrine  of  evolution.  ^^ 


CHRISTIAN  AUGUST  VULPIUS. 


In   1791   Goethe  helped  the  Duke  build  the  new  theater  at 
Weimar  of  which  on  its  completion  he  was  made  director. 

"  See  pp.  251-255. 


44 


GOETHE. 


In    August    1792    he    accompanied    the    Duke    on    his    cam- 
paign in  the  Ardennes  against  the  French  revokitionists.    In  1793 


^Ai.....^u 


AUGUST  VON  GOETHE. 
Crayon  drawing  by  Schmeller. 

both  attended  the  siege  of  Mayence.     In  the  same  year  Goethe 
began  to  rewrite  the  old  German  epic,  "Reynard,  the  Fox,"  the 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


45 


''unholy  secular  Bible"  as  he  called  it  because  it  describes  the 
ways  of  the  world  in  which  the  scoundrel  triumphs  by  dint  of  his 
shrewdness. 


In  the  meantime  Schiller  had  settled  in  Jena,  so  close  to 
Weimar,  as  professor  of  history.  The  two  greatest  poets  of 
Germany  had  thus  lived  in  close  proximity  for  several  years,  but 
remained  indifferent  toward  each  other  until  now  in  the  spring 
of  1794  Goethe   felt  more  and  more  attracted  by  his  younger 


'^^^^^'-O-fck^l^  \^;.v^. 


^  j^-.^fYJ^.';-       J 


OLD  THEATER  IX  WEIMAR. 


rival,  and  their  friendship  became  a  source  of  inspiration  to 
both.  Buoyed  by  Schiller's  interest,  Goethe  quickly  completed 
his  novel  ''Wilhelm  Meister"  and  the  epic  ''Hermann  and  Doro- 
thea." 

In  1795  Schiller  started  a  literary  periodical.  Die  Horen,  and 
in  1796  the  Miiscn- Almanack.  The  former  proved  disappointing 
in  spite  of  a  good  beginning;  the  latter  was  more  successful  and 
contained  a  great  number  of  poems  by  both  Goethe  and  Schiller. 
Goethe  published  here  for  the  first  time  his  "Epigrams  of  Ven- 
ice," "Alexis  and  Doris,  an  Idyl,"  and  his  satire,  "The  Muses 


46 


GOETHE. 


and  the  Graces  in  the  Mark."  However,  the  cHmax  of  an  ex- 
citement in  the  hterary  circles  of  Germany  was  reached  when  the 
Xenions  appeared  in  the  Musen-AUnanach,  satirical  distichs  in 
which  the  two  poets  attacked  their  several  adversaries  with  great 
bitterness.  ^^  They  were  answered  in  many  Antixenions  with  the 
same  or  even  greater  bitterness,  but  instead  of  continuing  the 


...  ?--■/- 


SCHILLER  AND  GOETHE  RIDICULED.* 

feud  Goethe  and   Schiller  decided  to  justify  their  position  by 
henceforth  creating  only  noble  works  of  art. 

The  year  1797  was  the  year  of  ballads  for  both  Goethe  and 

^®  The  writer  has  pubHshed  a  selection  of  them  under  the  title  Goethe  and 
Schiller's  Xenions,  Chicago :  Open  Court  Publishing  Company. 

*  A  caricature  made  in  answer  to  their  Xenions.  It  shows  a  pageant  of 
burlesque  figures  representing  the  Xenions  as  unruly  street  urchins  who  upset 
a  column  bearing  the  inscription  "Decency,  Morality,  Justice."  They  are 
stopped  at  the  gate  because  they  do  not  deserve  admittance.  Goethe  is  repre- 
sented as  a  faun,  hoofed  and  tailed,  carrying  a  ribbon  in  his  hand  inscribed 
Thierkreis,  i.e.,  zodiac;  Schiller  is  represented  as  a  drunken  coachman  with 
boots,  whip  and  bottle.  The  portraits  of  both  Schiller  and  Goethe  are  sup- 
posed to  be  very  good  and  easily  recognizable  by  people  who  knew  the  poets 
at  that  time.  Nevertheless  they  are  not  based  on  any  known  portraits  and  are 
therefore  assumed  to  be  taken  from  life. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


47 


Schiller.  Goethe  wrote,  "The  Apprentice  in  Magic,"  "The  Bride 
of  Corinth,"  "The  Treasure  Digger,"  "The  God  and  the  Baja- 
dere,"  and  others. 

Goethe's  poems  with  all  their  simplicity   in  diction   are   so 
filled  with  sentiment  that  they  naturally  invite  the  composer  to 


FRANZ  SCHUBERT. 


set  them  to  music.  His  devoted  friend  Zelter  was  always  ready 
to  write  the  music  of  his  songs,  and  his  melodies  are  very  sing- 
able, but  he  was  eclipsed  in  his  task  by  others,  especially  by  Franz 
Schubert,  the  master  of  lyric  composition,  and  by  Karl  Loewe, 


48 


GOETHE. 


the  greatest  composer  of  ballads.     It  will  be  interesting  to  com- 
pare Schubert's  composition  of  Goethe's  Erlkonig  with  that  of 


KARL  LOEWE. 

Loewe,  both  different  in  style  and  yet  each  one  in  its  way  unsur 
passed. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  49 

In  1798  Goethe  revisited  Switzerland.  On  his  way  he  saw 
his  mother  at  Frankfort  for  the  last  time,  and  presented  to  her 
Christiana  Vulpius  and  his  son. 

During  the  following  years  Schiller's  star  rose  and  threat- 
ened to  eclipse  that  of  Goethe  who  was  not  at  that  time  pro- 
ductive. He  was  engaged  in  scientific  and  archeological  labors 
and  translations.  He  wrote  some  discussions  on  classical  art, 
'The  Doctrine  of  Color"  and  "Winckelmann  and  his  Century,-' 
and  translated  Voltaire's  ''Mahomet  and  Tancred"  and  his  drama 
"The  Natural  Daughter."  The  adversaries  of  Schiller  and  Goethe 
tried  to  make  use  of  the  changed  situation  and  Kotzebue  glorified 
Schiller  at  Goethe's  expense  in  an  attempt  to  sow  enmity  be- 
tween the  two,  but  in  vain.  Goethe  remained  firm  in  his  friend- 
ship and  showed  no  sign  of  envy.  On  the  contrary  he  felt  the 
more  attracted  to  Schiller  because  he  found  more  reason  to  ad- 
mire him. 

As  a  tutor  for  his  son,  Goethe  engaged  in  1803  a  young  man 
who  had  already  made  a  name  for  himself  as  a  Greek  lexicog- 
rapher, Friedrich  Wilhelm  Riemer  (1774-1845).  The  young 
scholar  soon  became  a  useful  helpmate  for  the  literary  work  of 
his  pupil's  father  and  continued  so  beyond  the  end  of  the  great 
poet's  life  as  a  redactor  of  his  collected  works  and  posthumous 
papers. 

In  1805  Goethe  was  in  poor  health,  and  Schiller  too  was  ill. 
Goethe  was  convinced  that  one  of  the  two  would  die  in  tha^ 
year.  Schiller  seemed  to  recover  and  visited  Goethe  in  his  sick 
room.  On  April  19  they  saw  each  other  for  the  last  time. 
Schiller  was  on  the  way  to  the  theater  while  Goethe  was  too  ill 
to  accompany  him.     They  parted  at  the  door  of  Schiller's  house. 

Goethe  recovered.  Destiny  granted  him  another  lease  of  life, 
but  Schiller  died  May  9,  1805. 

Goethe  missed  his  friend  very  much  and  expressed  his  ad- 
miration for  him  in  many  ways.  He  sought  comfort  in  solitude 
and  in  scientific  work,  devoting  much  of  his  time  to  the  theory 
of  color. 

Schiller's  remains  were  deposited  in  the  Grand  Ducal  Mauso- 
leum at  Weimar,  and  when  in  1826,  twenty  years  after  his  death, 
the  mausoleum  had  to  be  rebuilt  so  as  to  make  room  for  more 


50 


GOETHE. 


bodies,  the  mayor  of  Weimar,  Carl  Leberecht  Schwabe,  selected 
a  skull  which  on  the  authority  of  some  highly  respected  physi- 
cians he  was  fully  convinced  belonged  to  the  great  poet.  This 
skull  was  given  to  Goethe  who  kept  it  on  his  desk  before  him 
in  constant  remembrance  of  his  beloved  friend,  and  wrote  a 
poem  on  it  entitled,  ''On  Contemplating  Schiller's  Skull."     This 


|-  ^"  "'■ 


THE  GOETHE  TABLE  IN   SCHILLER'S  GARDEN. 
Where  the  friends  often  conversed, together. 

poem  concludes  with  the  following  lines,  in  which  we  find  the 
conception  of  God-Nature,  so  typical  of  Goethe,  and  a  reference 
to  the  everlastingness  of  everything  begotten  by  spirit : 


What  greater  in  this  Hfe  can  mortal  gain 
Then  that  to  him  God-Nature  be  revealed; 
The  solid  when  resolved  will  spirit  yield; 

Spirit-begotten  things  secure  remain. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


51 


[Was  kann  der  Mensch  im  Leben  mehr  gewinnen, 
Als  dass  sich  Gott-Natur  ihm  offenbare, 
Wie  sie  das  Feste  lasst  zu  Geist  verrinnen, 
Wie  sie  das  Geisterzeugte  fest  bewahre!] 


GOETHE   CONTEMPLATING   SCHILLER'S    SKULL. 
Sculpture  by  Eberlein. 


52 


GOETHE. 


We  must  add  that  in  recent  times  the  suspicion  has  grown 
stronger  and  stronger  that  the  skull  could  not  have  been  that  of 
Schiller  and  that  Goethe  had  wasted  his  reverence  on  the  relics  of 
a  lesser  man.     Doctor  A.  von  Froriep,  professor  of  anatomv  at 


GOETHE  IN  1800. 
After  a  crayon  by  F.  Bury. 

Tiibingen  and  a  native  of  Weimar,  has  finally  succeeded  in  dis- 
covering the  genuine  skull  of  Schiller. ^"^ 


On  October  14,  1806,  the  battle  of  Jena  was  fought  in  the 
near  neighborhood  of  Weimar.  French  troops  took  possession 
of  Weimar,  and  the  quiet  town  suffered  much  for  a  few  days 

"  For  further  details  see  The  Open  Court,  Vol.  XXVII,  pp.  AAA-AA6. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


53 


from  plunder,  incendiarism  and  murder.  The  life  of  Goethe 
himself  was  once  endangered  by  drunken  marauders,  but  Chris- 
tiana Vulpius  saved  him  by  her  heroic  interference  and  by  reso- 
lutely showing  the  rude  intruders  the  door.     On  the  19th  of  the 


CHRISTIANA  VULPIUS  AND  AUGUST  VON  GOETHE. 

Water-color  by  Heinrich  Meyer  made  either  in  1792  or  1793,  imitat- 
ing the  attitude  and  coloring  of  Raphael's  Madonna  dcUa  sedia. 
The  very  youthful  mother  is  dressed  in  violet  and  the  child  in 
light  green. 

same  month  Goethe  married  her,  and  so  Christiana  became  Frau 
Geheimerath  Goethe  with  all  the  rights  of  a  legitimate  wife. 

In  1807  Goethe  lost  one  of  his  noblest  and  most  loyal  friends 
in  the  person  of  the  Duchess  Dowager  Amalia,  who  died  iVpril  10. 

It  was  just  at  this  time  that  Goethe  met  Bettina  Brentano 


54 


GOETHE. 


who  later  greatly  misrepresented  him  in  her  ''Goethe's  Corre- 
spondence with  a  Child. "^^ 


BETTINA  VON  ARNIM. 
At  an  advanced  age. 

The  year   1808  had  another  sad  bereavement  in  store   for 
Goethe,  for  his  mother  died  on  September  13. 
''  See  pp.  131-133. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  55 

At  this  time  the  Congress  of  Erfurt  was  in  session  and 
Goethe  accompanied  the  Duke  on  that  important  occasion.  On 
October  2  he  had  a  personal  interview  with  Napoleon  which  was 
pleasing  to  both  men,  both  great  and  yet  so  different  in  their 
talents  and  destinies.  Napoleon  said  of  Goethe,  ''Voild  tin 
hommel"  and  Goethe  was  overawed  by  the  extraordinary  power 
of  this  successful  conqueror  who  had  then  reached  the  zenith 
of  his  glory.  He  believed  in  genius,  and  in  Napoleon  he  saw  the 
incarnation  of  military  and  diplomatic  greatness.  When  a  few 
years  afterwards  the  German  people  rose  against  Napoleon, 
Goethe  did  not  believe  it  possible  that  he  could  be  overthrown. 
He  said:  "Shake  your  chains!  that  man  is  too  great,  you  can 
not  break  them."  When  a  few  years  later  in  the  War  of  Libera- 
tion his  own  son  wanted  to  enter  a  battalion  of  volunteers,  he 
refused  to  give  his  permission. 

Goethe  was  sufficiently  German  to  rejoice  in  the  German 
victory  over  the  French  conqueror,  and  even  his  admiration  for 
the  genius  of  the  tyrant  could  not  prevent  him  from  taking  an 
active  part  in  the  patriotic  celebrations  of  the  victory.  He  even 
went  so  far  as  to  write  verses  for  the  purpose  and  praised  Field 
Marshal  Bliicher  for  his  successful  campaign.  It  must  be  ob- 
served, however,  that  his  patriotic  poetry  does  not  possess  the 
genuine  ring  of  the  other  poets  of  his  day,  such  men  as  Arndt 
and  Koerner.  It  is  artificial  and  stilted.  A  play  which  he  wrote 
in  celebration  of  the  victory  under  the  title  "The  Awakening  of 
Epimenides,"  was  performed  in  Berlin  on  March  15,  1815,  but 
did  not  arouse  any  great  enthusiasm,  and  though  perfect  in  form 
belongs  to  the  weaker  productions  of  his  muse. 

Nor  did  time  change  Goethe's  appreciation  of  Napoleon  him- 
self. In  fact  after  Napoleon's  death  he  wrote  a  poem  on  the 
great  conqueror  which  not  only  paid  tribute  to  his  manhood  but 
also  is  remarkable  for  its  delicate  humor.     It  reads  thus : 

At  last  before  the  good  Lord's  throne 
On  doomsday  stood  Napoleon. 
The  Devil  had  much  fault  to  find 
With  him  and  with  his  kin  and  kind. 
Of  all  his  sins  he  had  a  list 
On  reading  which  he  did  insist. 
Quoth  God,  the  Father, — or  the  Son, 


56  GOETHE. 

Perchance  it  was  the  Holy  Ghost — 
He  was  indignant  innermost : 
'I  know  it  all,  make  no  more  stir! 
You  speak  like  a  German  professor,  sir. 
Still,  if  you  dare  to  take  him,  well — 
Then  drag  him  down  with  you  to  hell.' 

[Am  jiingsten  Tag  vor  Gottes  Thron 

Stand  endlich  Held  Napoleon. 

Der  Teufel  hielt  ein  grosses  Register 

Gegen  denselben  und  seine  Geschwister. 

War  ein  wundersam  verruchtes  Wesen : 

Satan  fing  an  es  abzulesen. 

Gott  Vater,  oder  Gott  der  Sohn, 

Einer  von  den  Beiden  sprach  vom  Thron, 

Wenn  nicht  etwa  der  heilige  Geist 

Das  Wort  genommen  allermeist : 
"Wiederhol's  nicht  vor  gottlichen  Ohren ! 

Du  sprichst  wie  die  deutschen  Professoren. 

Wir  wissen  Alles,  mach'  es  kurz  ! 

Am  jiingsten  Tag  ist's  nur  ein  .... 

Getraust  du  dich  ihn  anzugreifen. 

So  magst  du  ihn  zur  Holle  schleifen."] 

In  1808  Goethe  wrote  his  humorous  poem  on  telepathy  en- 
titled ''Effects  at  a  Distance."i^ 

In  1809  he  published  his  novel  "Elective  Affinities,"  the 
main  character  of  which  is  thought  to  be  founded  on  that  of 
Minna  Herzlieb,-^  for  whom  Goethe  felt  a  fatherly  attachment 
in  the  preceding  year.  The  book  was  widely  read  and  though 
severely  censured  by  many,  proved  that  the  aged  poet  was  still 
capable  of  producing  literary  work  of  high  merit. 

During  the  time  of  the  French  invasion  in  1808  Goethe 
finished  his  first  part  of  Faust,  which  was  published  the  same  year 
under  the  title,  "Faust,  a  Tragedy."  Further  he  wrote  a  continua- 
tion of  ''Wilhelm  Meister"  under  the  title  ''Wilhelm  Meister's 
Journey  Years,"  and  began  his  autobiography,  the  first  instal- 
ment of  which  appeared  in  1811.  Originally  he  called  it  'Toetry 
and  Truth,"  but  when  the  work  was  completed  he  reversed  it  to 
read  "Truth  and  Poetry."  In  the  best  known  English  trans- 
lation the  title  reads  Truth  and  Fiction.  It  has  ever  remained 
the  most  valuable  key  to  a  comprehension  of  Goethe,  although 

''  See  pp.  239-241.  ~  =*  See  pp.  133-134. 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  57 

the  poet's  biographers  are  often  embarrassed  by  the  unrehabiHty 
of  its  dates  and  sundry  contradictions  to  estabHshed  facts.  How- 
ever we  must  bear  in  mind  that  Goethe  does  not  mean  us  to 
take  his  story  as  a  recapitulation  of  facts  but  as  his  recollection 
of  facts  as  they  lived  in  his  imagination.  Other  smaller  poems 
are  ''Johanna  Sebus,''  "The  Faithful  Eckart,"  "The  Wandering 
Bell,"  ''Ergo  Bibamus,"  and  'Tn  Nothing  Have  I  placed  my 
Trust." 

Goethe  was  too  cosmopolitan  to  be  a  patriot.  In  1812  he 
dedicated  poems  not  only  to  the  Emperor  and  Empress  of 
Austria,  but  also  to  their  daughter,  the  Empress  Marie  Louise, 
wife  of  Napoleon. 

During  the  troublous  times  of  the  Napoleonic  wars  Goethe 
had  devoted  himself  to  Oriental  studies  which  bore  fruit  in  the 
"West-Eastern  Divan"  (1814-1815)  a  collection  of  poems  in 
which  the  literar}'  student  believes  that  he  finds  a  prototype  of 
Suleika  in  Marianne  von  Willemer,-^  Goethe's  acquaintance  with 
whom  began  at  this  time. 

On  June  6,  1816,  Goethe's  wife,  Christiana,  died  and  he 
mourned  her  loss  very  sincerely. 

In  1817  Goethe '  resigned  his  position  as  director  of  the 
theater. 

In  1819  Goethe  wrote  his  poem  "The  Metamorphosis  of 
Animals,"  a  companion  piece  to  his  "Metamorphosis  of  Plants," 
and  he  completed  his  arguments  on  the  intermaxillary  bone,  the 
existence  of  which  helped  to  establish  the  doctrine  of  evolution, 
so  much  discussed  at  that  time  in  the  circles  of  naturalists. 

After  1821  he  was  engaged  with  an  edition  of  his  complete 
works  in  which  he  was  assisted  first  by  Riemer  and  afterwards 
by  Eckermann. 

In  1827  Johann  Peter  Eckermann  (1792-1854)  was  introduced 
to  Goethe  and  became  his  secretary,  serving  him  faithfully  to 
the  very  last.  He  is  best  known  in  German  literature  through 
the  memoirs  which  he  published  under  the  title  "Goethe's  Talks 
with  Eckermann." 

Goethe's  references  to  America  are  very  few,  and  among 
his  poems  there  is  only  one  which  indicates  that  he  ever  took 

-'  See  pp.  134-136. 


58 


GOETHE. 


an  interest  in  the  destiny  of  the  new  world.      The  immediate 
occasion  of  these  Hnes  was  a  journey  of  Karl  Bernhard,  duke 


JOHANN  PETER  ECKERMANN. 
Original  preserved  in  the  Goethe  National  Museum  at  Weimar. 

of  Saxe-Weimar,  the  second  son  of  the  poet's  patron  and  friend, 
the  reigning  grand-duke  Karl  August.     This  prince,  born  May 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


59 


30,  1792,  had  dreamed  of  a  visit  to  the  new  world  ever  since 
his  early  boyhood,  and  at  last  in  his  thirty-second  year  his  father 
gave  him  permission  to  cross  the  Atlantic.  In  April,  1825,  Karl 
Bernhard  left  Ghent  for  the  United  States,  and  after  a  year's 


GOETHE  DICTATING  TO  ECKERMANN. 
After  an  oil  painting  by  J.  J.  Schmeller  in  1831. 

stay  returned  in  June,  1826.  The  diaries  of  the  prince's  travels 
were  submitted  to  Goethe  who  commented  on  them  favorably, 
and  they  appeared  in  print  in  1828.-^ 

^Compare  on  the  subject  Goethe's  correspondence  with  Grand-Duke  Karl 
August  and  with  Zelter.  The  latter  is  to  be  found  in  English  translation  as 
well  as  in  German  editions. 


60  GOETHE. 

The  impressions  which  the  prince  had  received  in  the  new 
world  justified  all  his  most  optimistic  expectations:  the  active 
life,  the  spirit  of  enterprise,  the  boldness  in  building,  the  rapid 
increase  of  trade  and  commerce,  the  regulation  of  rivers,  the 
expanse  of  the  country  with  its  untold  opportunities,  and  above 
all  the  free  and  manly  ways  which  the  inhabitants  exhibited  in 
their  daily  life.  Every  honest  worker  felt  himself  the  equal  of 
every  one  else,  and  was  treated  as  such ;  it  was  a  country  of  uni- 
versal brotherhood  without  class  distinction.  The  prince  was 
well  received  in  society  and  also  in  military  circles,  and  being  a 
soldier  who  had  fought  in  several  battles  (Jena  and  Wagram, 
etc.)  he  was  honored  with  the  boom  of  cannon.  So  enthusiastic 
was  the  prince  over  his  experiences  in  the  new  w^orld  that  he 
seriously  considered  the  plan  of  settling  there  and  making  it  his 
permanent  home,  but  the  old  world  had  after  all  too  great  attrac- 
tions for  him,  and  having  returned  he  took  up  his  abode  again 
in  the  chateau  of  his  ancestors  in  Weimar. 

Like  Goethe  the  prince  was  a  member  of  the  Masonic  lodge 
Amalia  of  Weimar,  and  on  his  return  the  brethren  greeted  him 
at  a  lodge  meeting  with  the  recitation  of  a  poem,  specially  made 
for  the  occasion  by  Goethe  and  afterwards  printed  in  1833  in 
Goethe's  Posthumous  Works. 

Goethe's  poem  on  America  was  written  at  this  time  and 
under  the  influence  wdiich  the  perusal  of  the  Prince's  diary  made 
on  him.  The  ideas  there  expressed  are  also  found  in  a  poem  of 
de  Laprade,  entitled  Lcs  Dciiiollisscurs,  in  which  America  is 
characterized  as  a  country  unhampered  by  the  past.  De  Laprade 
says :  "There  the  people  do  not  drag  about  the  inconvenient 
burden  of  superannuated  regrets."  He  speaks  of  their  paths  as 
free  from  prejudice  and  declares  that  ''never  a  tomb,  nor  an 
old  wall  has  to  be  torn  down."  Goethe  further  met  with  the 
statement  that  geologists  had  not  discovered  basalt  rocks  in  the 
mountains  of  the  new  continent,  and  this  strange  error  was  inter- 
woven into  his  notion  of  the  nature  of  the  people.  Basalt  being 
a  rock  of  volcanic  eruption  he  thought  that  the  element  of  social 
upheavals,  of  club  law%  and  their  historical  analogies  was  ab- 
sent. At  any  rate  he  deemed  the  lack  of  medieval  traditions, 
of  a  lingering  remembrance  of  an  age  of  robbers,  knights  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  61 

haunted  castles  as  especially  fortunate,  and  under  these  impres- 
sions he  wrote  his  poem  which  we  translate  as  follows : 

America,  a  better  fate 
Of  thee  than  of  Europe's  expected. 
No  ruined  castles  of  ancient  date 
Nor  basalts  in  thee  are  detected. 

The  past  disturbs  thee  not ;  nor  rages 
In  this,  thy  surging  modern  life, 
Vain  memory  of  by-gone  ages, 
Nor  futile  antiquated  strife. 

The  present  utilize  with  care. 

And  if  thy  children  write  poetry  books, 

May,  by  good  fortune,  they  beware 

Of  tales  of  robbers,  knights  and  spooks. 

[Amerika,  du  hast  es  besser 
Als  unser  Continent,  der  alte, 
Hast  keine  verfallene  Schlosser 
Und  keine  Basalte. 

Dich  stort  nicht  im  Innern 
Zu  lebendiger  Zeit 
Unniitzes  Erinnern 
Und  vergeblicher  Streit. 

Benutz't  die  Gegenwart  mit  Gliick, 

Und  wenn  nun  cure  Kinder  dichten, 

Bewahre  sie  ein  gut  Geschick 

Vor  Ritter-,  Rauber-  und  Gespenstergeschichten.] 

This  poem  appears  in  Goethe's  handwriting  as  the  enclosure 
of  a  letter  of  June  21,  1827,  addressed  to  his  musical  friend,  the 
composer  Zelter,  to  whom  the  poet  intended  to  forward  it  in 
order  to  have  it  set  to  music.  It  was  first  printed  in  the  Musen- 
Almanach,  1831,  page  42;  and  later  in  Goethe's  Correspondence 
with  Zelter,  IV,  341.  In  Goethe's  Collected  Works  it  appears  in 
XXII,  in  the  collection  ''Xenions  and  Kindred  Poems"  and  bears 
the  title,  "The  United  States." 

Frau  von  Stein  died  in  1827,  and  the  Duke,  Goethe's  patron 
and  faithful  friend,  in  June  1828.  But  the  worst  bereavement 
came  in  1830  when  on  October  27  his  only  son  August  died 
away  from  home  in  the  city  of  Rome,  while  traveling  in  Italy. 
The  aged  poet  received  the  news  with  remarkable  composure 


62 


GOETHE. 


and  gave  expression  to  his  resignation  in  the  oft  quoted  words : 
"Non  ignoravi  me  mortalem  geniiisse/' 

On  August  31,  1831,  when  in  his  eighty-third  year,  Goethe 
completed  the  second  part  of  his  'Taust"  which  he  had  begun 
in  1824 — one  of  the  profoundest  and  most  remarkable  dramatic 


GOETHE'S  SON  AUGUST. 
Medallion  by  Thorwaldsen. 

poems  in  the  whole  history  of  human  literature.  Apparently 
Goethe's  genius  had  not  suffered  by  old  age. 
C  On  Thursday,  March  15,  1832,  Goethe  spent  a  cheerful  and 
happy  day.  He  awoke  in  the  morning  with  a  chill,  from  which 
he  recovered,  however,  and  was  enabled  to  resume  his  usual  work 
on  Monday.    Another  chill  awoke  him  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE. 


63 


but  again  he  recovered,  and  had  no  anticipation  of  death.  His 
daughter-in-law  Ottihe  attended  him.  On  the  morning  of  the 
22d  he  sat  skimbering  in  his  armchair  holding  Ottilie's  hand. 
He  ordered  the  servant  to  open  the  second  shutter  to  let  in  more 


light.  At  half  past  eleven  he  turned  towards  the  left  corner  of 
his  armchair  and  went  peacefully  to  sleep.  It  took  some  time 
before  Ottilie  knew  that  his  life  was  ended.    ^. 

Goethe's  eldest  grandson,  Walther,  became  a  musician.     He 


64 


GOETHE. 


Studied  under  Mendelssohn,  Weinlig  and  Loewe  and  published 
several  compositions.     He  died  April  15,  1885.     Goethe's  second 


GOETHE'S  GRANDCHILDREN  IN  THE  POET'S  HOUSE. 

After  a  drawing  by  Arendswald  made  in  the  year  1836,  five  years  after 

Goethe's  death. 

grandson,  Wolfgang  Maximilian,  took  a  doctor's  degree  in  law 
at  Heidelberg  and  published  an  anonymous  work  of  three  volumes 


THE  LIFE  OF  GOETHE.  65 

on  ''Man  and  Elementary  Nature,"  a  poem  ''Erlinde"  and  col- 
lections of  "Poems."  He  died  January  20,  1883.  Little  Alma 
died  of  typhoid  fever  while  a  child,  September  29,  1844.  Her 
full  name  was  Alma  Sedina  Henrietta  Cornelia.  With  these 
three  orandchildren  Goethe's  posterity  died  out. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 

WHEN  reading"  any  biography  of  Goethe  we  are  apt  to 
receive  a  wrong  expression  of  his  personahty.  We  be- 
come acquainted  with  a  number  of  interesting  people  whom  he 
meets  in  different  places,  and  among  them  many  attractive 
women.  We  are  told  of  his  literary  labors  and  bear  in  mind 
his  rapidly  spreading  fame.  Thus  his  life  seems  to  be  a  series 
of  pleasures  and  triumphs  while  the  quiet  and  concentrated  work 
in  which  he  was  usually  engaged  is  scarcely  considered.  His  la- 
bors were  almost  playfully  performed  and  his  very  recreations 
entered  into  them  as  part  of  his  experiences  which  made  him 
pause.  His  very  sentiments  are  the  material  of  his  work,  for, 
says  he,  "God  made  me  say  what  in  my  heart  I  feel."  Thus  the 
seriousness  of  his  life  does  not  appear  to  a  superficial  observer, 
and  yet  those  judge  Goethe  wrongly  who  would  look  upon  his 
life  as  a  mere  series  of  flirtations,  of  lucky  incidents  and  un- 
deserved successes  of  all  kinds.  He  himself  relates  his  life  in  a 
charming  style  which  renders  every  insignificant  detail  inter- 
esting, but  all  those  pleasant  events  are  drawn  upon  a  somber 
background  which  the  less  noticed  it  is  serves  to  render  the  more 
fascinating  the  figures  that  appear  upon  it. 

Goethe's  was  a  serious  constitution,  and  the  joyous  events 
of  his  life  are  more  incidental  than  the  reader  of  ''Truth  and 
Fiction"  might  think.  He  was  the  butt  of  much  envy  and  hostil- 
ity in  his  lifetime,  and,  above  all,  his  relations  to  women  have  been 
severely  censured,  but  they  were  much  purer  and  more  innocent 
than  is  commonly  assumed.  We  must  remember  that  all  the 
denunciations  hurled  against  him  by  his  critics  are  based  upon 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


67 


his  own  story.      There  are  no  accusations  coming  from  those 
whom  he  is  assumed  to  have  wronged. 


GOETHE  IN  HIS  THIRTIETH  YEAR. 
Painted  by  G.  O.  May,  1779. 


When  we  wish  to  understand  the  part  which  women  play  in 
Goethe's  hfe  we  ought  to  speak  first  of  all  of  the  poet's  relations 
with  his  mother.    He  knew  very  well  what  he  owed  to  his  father 


68 


GOETHE. 


and  what  to  his  mother,  tersely  and  poetically  expressed  in  the 
lines : 


From  father  my  inheritance 
Is  stature  and  conduct  steady; 

From  mother  my  glee,  that  love  of 
romance, 
And  a  tongue  that's  ever  ready. 


[Vom  Vater  hab  ich  die  Statur, 
Des  Lebens  ernstes  Fiihren, 
Vom  Miitterchen  die  Frohnatur 
Und  Lust  zu  fabuliren. 


GOETHE'S  MOTHER,  FRAU  AJA. 

After  a  picture  in  the  possession  of  Solomon  Hirzel.     Original 
portraits  of  the  Frau  Rath  are  very  rare. 


Great-grandpapa  liked  ladies  fair, 
And  this  my  soul  is  haunting; 

Great  -  grandmamma   loved  gems   to 
wear, 
Like  her  I'm  given  to  flaunting. 


Urahnherr  war  der  Schonsten  hold. 
Das  spukt  so  hin  und  wieder; 
Urahnfrau  liebte  Schmuck  und  Gold, 
Das  zuckt  wohl  durch  die  Glieder. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


69 


Now  since  this  complex  can't  but  be 
The  sum  of  all  these  features, 

What  is  original  in  me 

Or  other  human   creatures? 


Sind  nun  die  Elemente  nicht 
Aus  dem  Complex  zu  trennen, 
Was  ist  denn  an  dem  ganzen  Wicht 
Original  zu  nennen?] 


Goethe  owed  to  his  mother  his  poetic  genius,  his  talent  for 
story  telling,  and  his  buoyancy  of  spirit. 

Frau  Aja,  as  Goethe's  mother  was  called  1)y  her  son,  was 


GOETHE'S  FATHER.* 
After  a  copper  engraving  in  'La.y^ters  Physiog)wmische  Fragincnte  (1777). 

much  younger  than  her  husband,  and  we  know  that  their  mar- 
riage was  not  a  love  match.  She  was  only  seventeen  and  a  half 
years  old  when  on  August  1748  she  joined  her  life  to  that  of  the 

*  The  explanatory  text  reads :  "Here  is  a  pretty  good  likeness  of  the  ex- 
cellent, skilful,  order-loving,  discreet  and  clever  executive  man,  who,  however, 
made  no  pretense  to  a  spark  of  poetic  genius,— the  father  of  the  great  man. 


70 


GOETHE. 


THE  GOETHE  FAMILY  OF  FRANKFORT. 
Painted  in  1762  by  the  Darmstadt  artist  J.  C.  Seekatz  for  60  gulden. 

After  the  death  of  Goethe's  mother  this  picture  came  into  possession 
of  Bettina  von  Arnim  who  left  it  to  her  son-in-law,  Hermann  Grimm.  Goethe 
kept  two  of  the  artist's  sketches  of  this  picture  in  his  collection.  It  is  one  of 
these  which  is  here  reproduced.    The  oil  painting  differs  slightly. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


71 


Counselor  Johann  Caspar  Goethe  who  was  her  senior  by  nineteen 
years.     The  warmth  of  the  young  wife's  heart  did  not  find  the 


THE  ROOM  OF  FRAU  RATH  GOETHE. 
After  a  drawing  by  E.  Biichner. 


response  she  sought  in  the  care  of  her  sober  and  paternal  mate, 
and  so  she  lavished  upon  her  son  all  the  sentiment  and  fervor 


72  goeth£. 

of  which  her  soul  was  capable.  Of  six  children  she  lost  four^ 
in  early  childhood,  and  only  two,  Wolfgang  and  Cornelia,  sur- 
vived. These  sad  bereavements  only  served  to  intensify  her  love 
for  her  two  remaining  children.  Others  might  have  succumbed 
to  the  gloom  of  melancholy,  or  their  disposition  would  have 
soured,  not  so  Frau  Aja.  With  all  the  tenderness  of  a  young 
woman's  affection  she  clung  to  her  children,  especially  to  her 
spritely  boy,  and  she  not  only  shared  his  joys  when  a  child  but 
also  the  unreserved  confidence  of  the  youth  and  the  man.  With 
him  she  renewed  her  girlhood  days  more  as  her  son's  companion 
in  his  sometimes  giddy  pranks  than  as  his  educator  and  parent. 
"My  Wolfgang  and  I,"  she  used  to  say,  ''always  clung  close  to- 
gether, because  we  were  young  together." 

Frau  Aja  surrounded  her  son  with  her  motherly  love,  remov- 
ing from  his  life  even  in  later  years  everything  that  could  worry 
him  or  cause  him  solicitude.  For  instance  it  is  not  commonly 
known  how  much  she  did  for  him  in  pecuniary  sacrifices  at  the 
time  when  her  illustrious  son  was  well  able  to  take  care  of  his 
own  accounts.  During  the  Napoleonic  war  Frankfort  had  to  pay 
a  heavy  contribution,  and  Goethe,  owning  some  property  there 
though  not  a  citizen  of  the  free  city,  was  directly  affected.  His 
mother  paid  every  penny  of  his  share  without  ever  referring  to 
her  son,  simply  to  spare  him  the  worry  of  making  these  increased 
payments.  There  is  preserved  in  Weimar  a  little  sheet  con- 
taining a  few  figures  in  Frau  Aja's  own  handwriting  which  tell 
us  how  much  the  poet's  mother  still  cared  for  the  comfort  of 
her  son,  and  continued  to  spoil  him  with  her  motherly  love.  They 
read  as  follows : 


1778. 

700 

1782. 

888 

1782. 

1000 

1785. 

1000 

1794. 

1000 

1801. 

1000 

f.  5588 

600 

f.  6188 

"Hermann  Jacob,  born  in  November,  1752,  died  in  January,  1759;  Catha- 
rina  Elisabeth,  born  in  September,  1754,  died  in  December,  1755;  Johanna 
Maria,  born  in  March,  1757,  died  in  August,  1759;  and  Georg  Adolf,  born  in 
June,  1760,  died  in  February,  1761. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN.  73 

The  sum  of  6188  florins  is  more  than  twenty-five  hundred 
dollars. 


It  is  true  that  Goethe's  poetic  nature  needed  the  stimulation 
of  a  woman's  interest,  but  his  relations  to  his  women  friends 
were  not  frivolous.  He  was  not  unprincipled,  but  he  dreaded 
the  indissoluble  bond  of  marriage,  and  he  carefully  avoided  giv- 
ing any  woman  just  cause  to  make  a  claim  on  his  constancy. 
He  himself  expressed  this  sentiment  in  a  humorous  poem  entitled 
Vorschlag  ziir  Gi'ite  which  might  be  translated  simply  "Proposal" 
or  ''For  Consideration."  It  reads  in  an  English  translation 
thus : 


He :     So  well  thou  pleasest  me,  my  dear, 
That  as  we  are  together  here 
I'd  never  like  to  part ; 
'Twoiild  suit  us  both,  sweet  heart. 

She :     As  I  please  you,  so  you  please  me. 
Our  love  is  mutual,  don't  you  see? 
Let's  marry,  and  change  rings. 
Nor  worry  about  other  things. 


He  :     We  marry,  darling,  and  for  aye  ? 

My  heart  grows  faint,  I  must  away. 

She:     Why  hesitate?     For  then  of  course 
If  it  won't  work,  we'll  try  divorce. 


[Er:   Du  gefallst  mir  so  wohl,  mein  liebes  Kind, 
Und  wie  wir  hier  bei  einander  sind. 
So  mocht'  ich  nimmer  scheiden ; 
Da  war'  es  wohl  uns  Beiden. 

Sie :  Gefair  ich  dir,  so  gefallst  du  mir; 
Du  sagst  es  frei,  ich  sag'  es  dir. 
Eh  nun !  heirathen  wir  eben ! 
Das  iibrige  wird  sich  geben. 

Er:  Heirathen,  Engel,  ist  wunderlich  Wort; 

Ich  meint',  da  miisst'  ich  gleich  wieder  fort. 

Sie :  Was  ist's  denn  so  grosses  Leiden  ? 

Geht's  nicht,  so  lassen  wir  uns  scheiden.] 


74  GOETHE. 

Being  fearful  that  he  might  many  some  one  who  would  be- 
come a  hindrance  to  him  in  his  poetic  work,  Goethe  was  careful 
not  to  be  carried  away  by  passion,  and  he  expresses  this  principle 
in  another  poem  entitled  Wahrer  Geniiss,  i.  e.,  ''True  Enjoy- 
ment," where  he  says : 

Wouldst  not  be  tied  in  holy  bondage, 
Oh  youth,  practice  control  of  thee. 
Thus  mayest  thou  preserve  thy  freedom. 
Nor  3'et  without  attachment  be. 

[Soli  dich  kein  heilig  Band  umgeben, 
O  Jiingling,  schranke  selbst  dich  ein ! 
Man  kann  in  wahrer  Freiheit  leben 
Und  doch  nicht  ungebunden  sein.] 

We  have  reason  to  believe  that  Goethe's  relations  with  women 
were  dominated  by  this  maxim,  and  in  more  advanced  years 
when  his  fame  had  made  him  more  attractive  he  fortified  him- 
self against  temptations  and  all  advances  by  the  fair  sex  as 
expressed  in  the  following  rhyme : 

Only  this  time  be  not  caught  as  yet, 
And  a  hundred  times  you  escape  the  net. 

[Einmal  nicht  gefangen 
1st  hundertmal  entgangen.] 


Goethe's  first  love  was  of  a  very  harmless  character.  It  was 
in  the  year  1764  when  he  was  a  mere  boy  of  fifteen,  and  his 
adored  one,  Gretchen,  was  a  few  years  his  senior,  probably  seven- 
teen or  eighteen  years  old, — a  good-natured  girl  whom  the  vicis- 
situdes of  life  had  rendered  both  modest  and  pensive,  so  as  to 
impress  the  bold  stripling  with  the  dignity  of  a  pure  soul.  For 
instance  once,  when  she  had  rebuked  him  for  entering  into  the 
silly  jokes  of  his  friends  he  was  so  infatuated  with  the  lovely 
girl  that  he  Avanted  to  embrace  her,  but  she  stood  aloof.  ''Don't 
kiss  me,"  said  she,  "that  is  vulgar;  but  love  me  if  you  can." 

Gretchen  seems  to  have  been  an  orphan,  presumably  the 
daughter  of  an  inn-keeper  at  Offenbach,  and  was  brought  up 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


75 


in  the  house  of  relatives.     Her  family  name  is  not  known.     At 
her   home   the  young   Goethe   became   acquainted   with   a  man 


GRETCHEN. 
By  Kaulbach. 

whom  he  recommended  to  his  father  for  a  position,  and  when 
the  youth's  protege  turned  out  to  be  a  scoundrel,  an  investigation 


7(y  GOETHE. 

ensued  in  which  Gretchen  spoke  of  the  young  Wolfgang  as  a 
*'boy,"  which  offended  him  greatly.  The  following  comment  in 
''Truth  and  Fiction"  describes  Goethe's  sentiments  at  the  dis- 
illusionment of  his  first  affection.  Having  related  the  result 
of  the  investigation  as  told  by  his  tutor,  he  continues : 

"At  last  I  could  contain  myself  no  longer,  and  asked  what 
had  become  of  Gretchen,  for  whom  I,  once  for  all,  confessed  the 
strongest  attachment.  My  friend  shook  his  head  and  smiled.  'Set 
your  mind  at  rest,'  replied  he,  'that  girl  has  passed  her  exam- 
ination very  well,  and  has  borne  honorable  testimony  to  that  ef- 
fect. They  could  discover  nothing  in  her  but  what  was  good  and 
amiable.  She  even  won  the  favor  of  those  who  questioned  her, 
and  who  could  not  refuse  to  grant  her  desire  to  remove  from  the 
city.  Even  what  she  confessed  regarding  you,  my  friend,  does 
her  honor.  I  have  read  her  deposition  in  the  secret  reports  my- 
self, and  have  seen  her  signature.' — 'That  signature!'  exclaimed 
I,  'which  makes  me  so  happy  and  so  miserable.  What  has  she 
confessed,  then?  What  has  she  signed?'  My  friend  hesitated 
to  reply,  but  the  cheerfulness  of  his  face  showed  me  that  he  con- 
cealed nothing  dangerous.  'If  you  must  know,  then,'  replied  he 
at  last,  'when  she  was  asked  about  you  and  her  intercourse  with 
you,  she  said  quite  frankly,  "I  cannot  deny  that  I  have  seen  him 
often  and  with  pleasure;  but  I  have  always  treated  him  as  a 
child,  and  my  affection  for  him  was  truly  that  of  a  sister.  In 
many  cases  I  gave  him  good  advice  and,  instead  of  instigating 
him  to  any  equivocal  action,  I  have  hindered  him  from  taking 
part  in  wanton  tricks,  which  might  have  brought  him  into 
trouble."  ' 

"My  friend  still  went  on  making  Gretchen  speak  like  a  gover- 
ness; but  for  some  time  I  had  ceased  to  listen  to  him.  I  was 
terribly  affronted  that  she  had  set  me  down  in  the  reports  as  a 
child,  and  I  at  once  believed  myself  cured  of  all  passion  for  her. 
I  even  hastily  assured  my  friend  that  all  was  over  now.  I  also 
spoke  no  more  of  her,  named  her  no  more ;  but  I  could  not  leave 
off  the  bad  habit  of  thinking  about  her,  and  of  recalling  her  face, 
her  hair,  her  demeanor,  though  now,  to  be  sure,  all  appeared  to 
me  in  quite  another  light.  I  felt  it  intolerable  that  a  girl,  at  the 
most  only  a  couple  of  years  older  than  I,  should  regard  me  as 


ttlS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


77 


a  child;  while  I  had  imagined  that  I  passed  with  her  for  a  very 
sensible  and  clever  youth." 

A  reminiscence  of  Gretchen  is  preserved  in  Goethe's  ''Faust" 
in  so  far  as  the  heroine  bears  her  name. 


Goethe's  relation  to  his  sister  might  well  serve  all  brothers 
as  a  model.  We  cannot  characterize  her  better  than  in  his  own 
words : 


THE  POET'S  SISTER. 
Drawn  by  Goethe,  presumably  in  1770.    From  the  portfolio  Juvenilia. 


"She  was  tall,  well  and  delicately  formed,  and  had  something 
naturally  dignified  in  her  demeanor,  which  melted  away  into 
pleasing  mildness.  The  lineaments  of  her  face,  neither  striking 
nor  beautiful,  indicated  a  character  which  was  not,  nor  ever  could 
be,  in  union  with  itself.  Her  eyes  were  not  the  finest  I  have  ever 
seen,  but  the  deepest,  behind  which  you  expected  the  most;  and 
when  they  expressed  any  affection,  any  love,  their  brilliancy  was 


l'^ 


GOETHE. 


unequalled.  And  yet,  properly  speaking,  this  expression  was 
not  tender,  like  that  which  conies  from  the  heart  carrying  with 
it  at  the  same  time  something  of  longing  and  desire.     This  ex- 


CORNELIA,  GOETHE'S  SISTER. 

pression  came  from  the  soul ;  it  was  full  and  rich  and  seemed  as 
if  it  would  only  give  without  needing  to  receive. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN.  79 

''But  what  disfigured  her  face  in  a  pecuhar  manner  so  that 
she  would  often  appear  positively  ugly,  was  the  fashion  of  those 
times,  which  not  only  bared  the  forehead,  but,  either  accidentally 
or  on  purpose,  did  everything  apparently  or  really  to  enlarge  it. 
Now,  as  she  had  the  most  feminine,  most  perfect  arched  fore- 
head, and,  moreover,  a  pair  of  strong  black  eyebrows  and  prom- 
inent eyes,  these  circumstances  occasioned  a  contrast,  which  if 
it  did  not  repel  every  stranger  at  the  first  glance,  at  least  did  not 
attract  him.  She  felt  it  at  an  early  age ;  and  this  feeling  became 
constantly  the  more  painful  to  her,  the  farther  she  advanced  into 
the  years  when  both  sexes  find  an  innocent  pleasure  in  being 
mutually  agreeable. 

"To  nobody  can  his  own  form  be  repugnant.  The  ugliest, 
as  well  as  the  most  beautiful,  has  a  right  to  enjoy  his  own  pres- 
ence; and  as  favor  beautifies,  and  every  one  regards  himself  in 
the  looking  glass  with  favor,  it  may  be  asserted  that  every  one 
must  see  himself  with  complacency,  even  if  he  would  struggle 
against  the  feeling.  Yet  my  sister  had  such  a  decided  founda- 
tion of  good  sense,  that  she  could  not  possibly  be  blind  or  silly 
in  this  respect.  On  the  contrary  she  perhaps  knew  more  clearly 
than  she  ought,  that  she  stood  far  behind  her  female  playmates 
in  external  beauty,  without  feeling  consoled  by  the  fact  that  she 
infinitely  surpassed  them  in  internal  advantages. 

'Tf  a  woman  can  find  compensation  for  the  want  of  beauty, 
she  richly  found  it  in  the  unbounded  confidence,  the  regard  and 
love,  which  all  her  female  friends  bore  to  her ;  whether  they  were 
older  or  younger,  all  cherished  the  same  sentiments.  A  very 
pleasant  society  had  collected  around  her.  Young  men  were  not 
wanting  who  knew  how  to  insinuate  themselves  into  it  and  nearly 
every  girl  found  an  admirer ;  she  alone  had  remained  without  a 
partner.  While,  indeed,  her  exterior  was  in  some  measure  repul- 
sive, the  mind  that  gleamed  through  it  was  also  more  repelling 
than  attractive ;  for  the  presence  of  dignity  puts  a  restraint  upon 
others.  She  felt  this  sensibly;  she  made  no  attempt  to  conceal 
it  from  me,  and  her  love  was  directed  to  me  with  all  the  greater 
force.  The  case  was  singular  enough.  As  confidants  to  whom 
one  reveals  a  love-affair  actually  by  genuine  sympathy  become 
lovers  also,  nay,  grow  into  rivals,  and  at  last,  perchance,  trans- 


80 


GOETHE. 


fer  the  passion  to  themselves;  so  it  was  with  us  two.  For,  when 
Z  connection  with  Gretchen  was  torn  asunder  -ys-s  -  ca- 
roled me  the  more  earnestly,  because  she  secretly  felt    he  sat.s 

c^tn  of  having  got  rid  of  a  rival;  and  I,  too,  cou      no 
feel  a  quiet,   half-mischievous  pleasure,   when  she  d,d  me  the 


JOHANN  GEORG  SCHLOSSER. 
After  a  medallion  by  Becker. 

justice  to  assure  me  that  I  was  the  only  one  who  truly  loved, 
understood,  and  esteemed  her.'  cM,,osser   and 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


81 


but  he  could  offer  no  help.     She  died  prematurely  in  Emmen- 
dingen  in  1777. 

Her  husband  was  a  lawyer  who  served  as  private  secretary 
to  the  Duke  of  Wiirttemberg.  In  1773  he  accepted  a  position  as 
a  state  counselor  of  Baden  at  Carlsruhe,  and  after  an  appoint- 
ment as  Oberamtmann  at  Emmendingen,  he  returned  to  Carlsruhe 


CHARITAS  MEIXNER. 
After  an  oil  painting. 

in  1787  as  director  of  the  ducal  court  and  retired  in  1794. 
died  at  Frankfort  in  1799  at  the  age  of  sixty. 


He 


* 


^ 


One  of  Cornelia's  friends  was  Charitas  Meixner,  a  young 
girl  born  in  1750  at  Worms.  While  Goethe  studied  in  Leipsic 
he  devoted  some  passing  attention  to  her,  as  appears  from  his 
correspondence  with  her  cousin,  a  young  Mr.  Trap.  We  know 
too  little  about  her  to  form  an  adequate  idea  of  her  character 


82 


GOETHE. 


and  the  influence  she  might  have  had  on  the  young  poet.  She 
afterwards  married  a  merchant  of  Worms  by  the  name  of 
Schuler,  and  died  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven  years. 

^        ^        jji 

At  Frankfort  Corneha  was  visited  by  some  friends  who 
played  a  part  in  her  brother's  hfe.  They  were  Frau  Betty  Jacobi. 
the  wife  of  Fritz  Jacobi,  and  Johanna  Fahhiier,  a  younger  sister 
of  Fritz  Jacobi's  mother,  with  her  niece,  Fritz  Jacobi's  half- 
sister  Lolo.  Fraiilein  Fahlmer  was  a  daughter  of  her  father's 
second  wife  and  considerably  younger  than  her  nephews.     Being 


■^'^^^  •  \ 


BETTY  JACOBI.  NP:E  VOX  CLER- 
MONT. 


JOHANNA  FAHLMER  IN  OLD  AGE. 


Jacobi's  aunt  she  was  called  ''Auntie"  (Tantchcn)  even  as  a 
young  girl,  and  in  Goethe's  letters  she  always  figured  as  Auntie 
Fahlmer.  These  three  young  women  contributed  not  a  little  to 
cement  a  friendship  between  Goethe  and  Fritz  Jacobi  which  in 
spite  of  profound  difference  of  religious  conviction  lasted  to  the 
end  of  their  lives.  The  maiden  name  of  Helene  Elisabeth  Jacobi 
(called  Betty)  was  Von  Clermont.  She  was  born  October  5, 
1743,  and  died  prematurely  on  February  9,  1784.  She  was  of 
Dutch  nationality  and  was  married  in  1764  to  Fritz  Jacobi.  Her 
visit  to  Frankfort  falls  in  the  year  1773.     Goethe  was  very  fond 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


83 


of  her  and  describes  her  in  "Truth  and  Fiction"  as  genuinely 
Dutch  in  her  appearance,  ''without  the  sHghtest  sentimentahty  in 
her  feehng,  true,  cheerful  in  speech,  a  splendid  Dutch  woman, 
who  without  any  trace  of  sensuality  reminds  one  of  the  plump 
type  of  Rubens's  women." 

Auntie  Fahlmer  was  born  June  16,  1744,  at  Diisseldorf  and 
died  October  31,  1821,  in  her  native  city.     She  visited  Frankfort 


\     V4 
KITTY   SCHONKOPF. 


during  the  summer  of  1772  and  the  spring  of  1774.  She  was  a 
friend  of  both  Wolfgang  and  Cornelia  Goetlie  and  became  more 
and  more  attached  to  the  latter  after  her  marriage,  and  during 
the  years  \773-1777  she  carried  on  a  lively  correspondence  with 
Goethe.  Somewhat  more  than  a  year  after  Cornelia's  death, 
June  8,  1777,  she  became  the  wife  of  the  widower  Johann  George 


84  GOETHE. 

Schlosser.     The  only  procurable  picture  of  her  is  a  portrait  made 
at  an  advanced  age. 

^       ^       ^ 

Kitty  Schonkopf,  the  *'Aennchen"  of  Goethe's  autobiography, 
was  a  pretty  and  attractive  girl,  but,  being  the  daughter  of  the 
proprietor  of  a  restaurant  where  Goethe  took  his  dinners  during 
the  summer  of  1766,  she  was  not  of  a  distinguished  family. 
Their  courtship  was  much  disturbed  by  jealousy  and  whims, 
which  finally  led  to  a  rupture.  The  main  cause  of  the  trouble 
seems  to  have  been  the  restless  character  of  the  young  poet,  who 
felt  that  his  interest  would  not  be  lasting,  and  \vho  was  almost 
afraid  to  tie  himself  permanently  to  her  by  marriage.  Kitty 
was  married  in  1770  to  Dr.  Karl  Kanne,  later  vice-mayor  of 
Leipsic. 

This  flirtation  at  Leipsic  (in  1766)  with  ''Aennchen"  was  of 
a  transient  nature  and  did  not  leave  a  deep  impression  on  the 
poet's  heart.  So  we  may  regard  his  romance  with  Friederike 
Brion  of  Sesenheim  as  the  first  true  love  affair  of  his  life. 


At  Strassburg  Goethe  had  taken  dancing  lessons  at  the  house 
of  a  French  dancing  master,  whose  two  daughters  were  in  love 
with  the  young  poet,  and  one  day  the  older  one,  jealous  of  her 
sister,  kissed  him,  and  solemnly  cursed  the  woman  who  would 
be  the  first  to  kiss  him  again.  The  scene  is  dramatically  told  in 
Goethe's  autobiography,  and  the  unhappy  victim  of  this  curse 
was  to  be  Friederike. 

A  student  by  the  name  of  Wieland  introduced  Goethe  to  the 
Brion  family.  The  father,  a  Huguenot  of  French  extraction, 
was  a  Protestant  clergyman  at  Sesenheim,  a  village  about  twenty 
miles  from  Strassburg.  He  had  six  children;  one  of  his  daugh- 
ters was  married,  while  the  two  youngest  lived  at  home.  The 
name  of  the  elder  of  these  two  was  Maria  Salome,  and  Friederike, 
the  youngest  daughter  of  the  Brion  family  (born  April  19,  1752), 
was  just  nineteen  years  of  age,  with  blue  questioning  eyes  and  a 
most  alluring  smile,  not  exactly  beautiful,  but  very  attractive,  and 
unusually  responsive.  No  w^onder  that  the  young  poet's  heart 
was  at  once  aflame.   The  time  was  spent  in  lively  conversation  on 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


85 


KAULBACH'S  BRION  FAMILY. 

Friederike  is  reading  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  to  the  characters  of 
which  story  Goethe  compared  the  inmates  of  the  Sesenheim  par- 
sonage. 


86 


GOETHE. 


Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield  and  other  Hterary  topics,  in 
moonlight  promenades,  dances  and  rural  frolics,  until  Goethe  was 
so  thrilled  with  youth  and  love  that,  forgetful  of  the  French 
damsel's  curse,  he  yielded  to  the  temptation  and  pressed  a  kiss 
upon  her  yielding  lips. 


FRIEDERIKE'S  HOME,  THE  PARSONAGE  AT  SESENHEIM. . 

After  an  oil  painting  formerly  in  the  possession  of  A.   Storber,  now  in  the 
Freie  Deutsche  Hochstift  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main. 

Can  we  doubt  that  the  lines  of  his  poem  'To  the  Moon" 
have  reference  to  Friederike's  love  when  he  says : 


Once  that  prize  did  I  possess 
Which  I  yearn  for  yet, 
And  alas !  to  my  distress, 
Never  can  forget. 


[Ich  besass  es  doch  einmal, 
Was  so  kostlich  ist ! 
Dass  man  doch  zu  seiner  Qual 
Nimmer  es  vergisst!] 


No  wonder  that  Goethe  never  forgot  this  idyllic  courtship 
and  that  the  remembrance  of  it  seemed  to  gain  in  power  with 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


87 


hs  advancing  age.     George  Heniy  Lewes,  on  his  visit  to  Weimar 
et  some  persons  then  living  who  had  known  the  great  poe 
personally.     He  says  with  reference  to  Friederike :  4he  sec^e 


FALK'S  FRIEDERIKE  PORTRAIT. 
Found  among  Lenz's  papers. 


88 


GOETHE. 


tary  to  whom  this  episode  was  dictated,  told  me  how  much 
affected  Goethe  seemed  to  be  as  these  scenes  revisited  his  memory. 
Walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  his  hands  behind  him,  he 
often  stopped  his  walk  and  paused  in  the  dictation ;  then  after 
a  long  silence,  followed  by  a  deep  sigh,  he  continued  the  narra- 
tive in  a  lower  tone." 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  no  portrait  of  Friederike 
which  can  be  considered  as  unequivocally  authentic.  Among 
the  papers  of  the  poet  Lenz,  however,  a  pencil  drawing  has  been 
found  which  represents  a  youthful  girl  in  Alsacian  costume  who 
mav  A'ery  probably  be  this  much  wooed  daughter  of  the  Sesen- 
heim  parson.     There  is  a  great  probability  that  such  is  the  case 


FRIEDERIKE'S  AUTOGRAPH. 

but  we  have  no  positive  evidence.  The  handwriting  of  Friede- 
rike, however,  is  still  preserved,  and  we  reproduce  here  one  of 
the  best  known  specimens  of  it  from  an  envelope  addressed  to 
Goethe. 

There  are  man}-  readers  of  Goethe's  autobiography  who  be- 
come so  charmed  with  the  loveliness  of  Friederike  that  they 
cannot  forgive  the  poet  for  not  having  married  her.  Some  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  attack  him  most  violently  and  censure  him  for 
a  breach  of  faith.  They  forget  that  their  accusations  are  based 
on  evidence  furnished  exclusively  by  the  accused  person  himself. 
That  Goethe  had  never  a  harsh  w^ord  for  her  certainly  does  not 
speak  against  him,  and  we  must  assume  that  there  were  weighty 
reasons  which  led  to  the  rupture.     In  fact  he  accuses  himself, 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


89 


90 


GOETHE. 


GOETHE  PARTING  FROM  FRIEDERIKE. 
By  Eugen  Klimsch. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


91 


not  at  all  considering  himself  blameless  although  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  have  acted  different^.  We  will  quote  the  most  im- 
portant passage  on  the  subject  from  his  autobiography.  When 
he  wrote  her  that  he  would  have  to  leave  she  answered  in  a  most 
touching  way.     Goethe  says  : 

"Friederike's  answer  to  my  farewell  letter  rent  my  heart.  It 
was  the  same  hand,  the  same  tone  of  thought,  the  same  feeling 
which  was  formed  for  me  and  by  me.  I  now  for  the  first  time 
felt  the  loss  which  she  suffered,  and  saw^  no  means  to  supply  it  or 
even  alleviate  it.  I  was  always  conscious  that  I  missed  her ;  and, 
what  was  worst  of  all,  I  could  not  forgive  myself  for  mv  own 
misfortune.     Gretchen  had  been  taken  awav  from  me ;  Annette 


-- ^Vi* -i- 


'^,yf>*li>^ 


VV>-*N"^' 


SESENHEIM. 
had  left  me ;  now,  for  the  first  time,  I  was  the  guilty  one.  I  had 
wounded  her  lovely  heart  to  its  very  depths ;  and  the  period  of  a 
gloomy  repentance,  with  the  absence  of  the  refreshing  love  to 
which  I  had  grown  accustomed,  was  most  agonizing,  nay,  in- 
tolerable." 

Further  on  Goethe  continues : 

"At  the  time  when  I  was  pained  by  my  grief  at  Friederike's 
situation,  I  again  sought  aid  from  poetry  after  my  old  fashion. 
I  again  continued  my  wonted  poetical  confession  in  order  that  by 
this  self-tormenting  penance  I  might  be  worthy  absolution  in 
my  own  eyes.  The  two  Marias  in  'Gotz  von  Berlichingen'  and 
'Clavigo,'  and  the  two  bad  characters  who  act  the  parts  of  their 
lovers,  may  have  been  the  results  of  such  penitent  reflections." 


92  GOETHE. 

When  Goethe  speaks  of  first  love  as  the  only  true  love  he 
apparently  has  reference  to  his  love  for  Friederike,  not  to  his 
prior  and  more  boyish  flirtations  with  Gretchen  and  Annette 
Schonkopf ;  and  this  explains  why  he  cherished  this  episode  of 
his  life  with  such  tenderness.     Goethe  says : 

"The  first  love,  it  is  rightly  said,  is  the  only  one ;  for  in  the 
second,  and  by  the  second,  the  highest  sense  of  love  is  already 
lost.  The  conception  of  the  eternal  and  infinite  which  elevates 
and  supports  love  is  destroyed;  and  it  appears  transient  like 
everything  else  that  recurs." 

The  correspondence  between  Goethe  and  Friederike  has  been 
destroyed,  which  fact  proves  that  both  parties  shunned  publicity. 
However,  Goethe  remembered  Friederike's  love,  and  set  up  for 
her  an  everlasting  monument  in  the  story  of  his  Sesenheim 
romance,  while  ever  afterward  he  carefully  endeavored  to  crowd 
out  from  his  mind  all  memories  that  would  disfigure  these  recol- 
lections so  dear  to  him.  In  Goethe's  autobiography  Friederike 
appears  of  such  natural  and  lovely  charm  that  her  ]:)ersonality 
has  remained  one  of  the  favorite  women  characters  of  German 
literature.  She  died  April  3,  1813,  at  the  house  of  her  sister, 
Fran  Pfarrer  Marx  at  Meissenheim,  and  on  her  tombstone  two 
simple  lines  are  inscribed  : 

Upon  her  fell  a  ray  of  poes}-, 
So  bright  it  lent  her  immortalit\\ 

[Ein  Strahl  der  Dichtersonne  fiel  auf  sie, 
So  hell  dass  er  Unsterblichkeit  ihr  lieh.] 

Goethe's  description  of  Friederike  has  made  Sesenheim  a 
place  of  pilgrimage  to  lovers  of  German  literature,  and  the  first 
distinguished  visitor  of  the  old  Brion  parsonage  was  the  poet 
Ludwig  Tieck  in  the  summer  of  1822,  but  he  expressed  his  dis- 
appointment by  saying  that  in  a  certain  sense  he  ''repented 
having  visited  Sesenheim."  He  adds,  "'repented'  is  not  the 
word,  but  an  unpoetic  sadness  fills  me  to  find  that  everything 
there  is  so  different  from  the  picture  my  invagination  formed 
according  to  the  incomparable  description  of  our  poet." 

In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year  (1822)  Professor  Naeke,  of 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN.  93 

Bonn,  visited  Sesenheim  and  was  greatly  disillusioned  at  the 
report  of  Pastor  Schweppenhauser,  the  successor  of  Friederike's 
father  in  that  rural  parsonage.  The  real  Friederike  was  some- 
what different  from  the  poetical  figure  of  Goethe's  autobiography. 
Naeke  wrote  down  his  impressions  under  the  title  of  "A  Pil- 
grimage to  Sesenheim,"  and  having  stated  the  result  of  his  in- 
vestigations concludes  his  report  with  an  expression  of  satis- 
faction that  she  had  no  reason  to  reproach  Goethe  for  her  mis- 
fortunes. Naeke's  "Pilgrimage  to  Sesenheim"  remained  un- 
printed  until  1840,  when  it  was  published  by  Varnhagen  von 
Ense,  but  a  copy  of  the  manuscript  had  been  sent  to  Goethe  at 
the  time,  and  he  made  the  following  comment  which  appears  to 
be  all  he  ever  cared  to  say  on  the  subject  :^ 

'Tn  order  to  give  brief  expression  to  my  thoughts  about  the 
news  from  Sesenheim  I  shall  make  use  of  a  symbol  of  general 
physics  derived  more  particularly,  however,  from  entoptics ;  I 
shall  speak  here  of  repeated  reflections  of  light. 

''1.  A  blessed  youthful  delusion  (Wahnleben)  unconsciously 
reflects  itself  forcibly  in  the  young  man. 

"2.  The  image  long  cherished,  and  probably  revived,  surges 
ever  to  and  fro,  gracious  and  lovely,  before  his  inner  vision  for 
many  years. 

"3.  Tenderly  received  in  early  years  and  long  retained,  finally 
in  vivid  remembrance  it  is  given  external  expression  and  is  once 
more  reflected. 

"4.  This  image  radiates  in  all  directions  into  the  world,  and 
a  fine,  noble  heart  may  be  charmed  by  this  appearance  as  if  it  were 
the  reality,  and  receives  from  it  a  deep  impression. 

''5.  From  this  is  developed  an  inclination  to  actualize  all  that 
may  still  be  conjured  up  out  of  the  past. 

"6.  The  longing  grows,  and  that  it  may  be  gratified  it  be- 
comes indispensably  necessary  to  return  once  more  to  the  spot 
in  order  to  make  his  own  the  vicinity  at  least. 

"7.   Here  by  happy  chance  is  found  on  the  commemorated 

^This  short  article  is  inscribed  Wicdcrholtc  Spicgclungen  (i.  e.,  "repeated 
or  continued  mirrorings"),  and  is  registered  under  that  title  in  the  index  of 
any  edition  of  Goethe's  complete  works.  It  was  published  first  in  his  posthu- 
mous works  1833,  Vol.  IX,  and  is  contained  in  his  complete  works  as  No.  117 
in  the  volume  entitled  Aufsdtze  sur  Literatur. 


94  GOETHE. 

Spot  a  sympathetic  and  well-informed  man  upon  whom  the  image 
has  likewise  been  impressed. 

"8.  Now  in  the  locality  which  had  been  in  some  respects  deso- 
lated, it  becomes  possible  to  restore  a  true  image,  to  construct  a 
second  presence  from  the  wrecks  of  truth  and  tradition,  and  to 
love  Friederike  in  her  entire  lovableness  of  yore. 

"9.  Thus  in  spite  of  all  earthly  intervention  she  can  again  be 
once  more  reflected  in  the  soul  of  her  old  lover,  and  charmingly 
revive  in  him  a  pure,  noble  and  living  presence. 

''When  we  consider  that  repeated  moral  mirrorings  not  only 
vividly  revive  the  past  but  even  ascend  to  a  higher  life,  then  we 
think  of  the  entoptic  phenomena  which  likewise  do  not  fade  from 
mirror  to  mirror  but  are  kindled  all  the  more.  Thus  we  shall 
obtain  a  symbol  of  what  has  often  been  repeated  in  the  history 
of  the  arts  and  sciences,  of  the  church  and  even  of  the  political 
world,  and  is  still  repeated  e\'ery  day. 

"January  31,  1823." 

We  can  now  understand  those  other  lines  in  Goethe's  ode 
"To  the  Moon,"  when  the  poet  sighs: 

Flow  along,  dear  river,  flow;  [Fliesse.  fliesse,  lieber  Fluss; 

Joy  for  aye  is  sped.  Nimmer  werd'  ich  froh ! 

Glee  and  kisses  even  so,  So  verrauschte  Scherz  und  Kuss, 

Yea,  and  troth  have  fled.  Und  die  Treue  so.] 

Historical  investigations  have  led  to  a  bitter  discussion,  the 
extremes  of  which  are  represented  on  the  one  side  by  I.  Froitz- 
heim,^  on  the  other  by  Dihitzer,  Erich  Schmidt,  Bielowski,  etc. 
Although  an  idealist  would  be  naturally  inclined  to  take  Dihi- 
tzer's  view  of  the  case,  we  can  not  ignore  Goethe's  own  state- 
ments which,  though  very  guardedly,  concede  the  reliability  of 
Naeke's  information.  We  know  further  that  Friederike  was 
engaged  for  some  time  to  Jacob  Michael  Reinhold  Lenz,  one  of 
the  minor  German  poets  and  a  personal  friend  of  Goethe,  but  that 
he  too  found  cause  to  break  off  the  engagement. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny  the  pertinence  of  these  and  other 


^  In  protest  against  the  exaggerated  glorification  of  Friederike  by  certain 
hero-worshipers.  Dr.  I.  Froitzheim  followed  up  the  scent  of  Professor^  Naeke 
and  published  the  result  of  his  investigations  under  the  title,  Friederike  von 
Sesenheim  nach  geschichtlichen  QiieUen   (Gotha,  F.  A.  Perthes,  1893). 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN.  95 

facts,  but  on  the  other  hand  we  need  not  (as  does  Froitzheim) 
begrudge  to  Friederike  the  honor  of  the  inscription  on  her  tomb- 
stone. Friederike  was  human,  perhaps  too  human,  but  her  foible 
was  the  same  as  Goethe's.  The  suffering  she  endured  for  her 
fault  was  sufficient  atonement.  We  must  remember  that  even  the 
severest  critics  of  her  character  grant  that  she  was  full  of  grace 
and  loveliness,  not  a  striking  beauty  Ijut  of  rare  charm,  capable 
of  intense  devotion,  charitable,  self-sacrificing  and  thirsting  for 
love.  Even  when  her  youth  was  gone  she  could  fascinate  men 
of  talent  and  set  their  hearts  aflame  with  passion.  There  is  no 
need  to  require  her  to  be  a  saint,  and  we  might  as  well  repeat  of 
her  the  words  of  Christ,  "Her  sins  which  are  many  are  forgiven, 
for  she  loved  much." 


While  convalescent  in  Frankfort  from  his  Leipsic  illness, 
Goethe  became  acquainted  with  Fraulein  Susanna  Catharina  von 
Klettenberg,  an  old  lady  and  a  friend  of  his  mother.  She  be- 
longed to  the  Moravian  church  and  took  a  great  interest  in 
religious  mysticism  which  made  a  deep  impression  on  Goethe 
without,  however,  converting  him  to  pietism.  Her  personality 
is  mirrored  in  the  "Confessions  of  a  Beautiful  Soul"  incorporated 
in  his  novel  "Wilhelm  Meister."  Goethe  here  made  use  of  her 
letters,  explained  and  enlarged  by  personal  conversation  with 
her,  and  it  is  commonly  assumed  that  as  to  facts  and  sometimes 
even  in  the  letter  of  descriptions  she  is  virtually  to  be  considered 
as  the  author  of  this  autobiography. 

"The  Confessions  of  a  Beautiful  Soul"  is  of  extraordinary 
interest  and  belongs  to  Goethe's  most  attractive  sketches,  depict- 
ing a  pure  and  truly  pious  personality.  In  her  childhood  the 
author  of  these  "Confessions"  had  been  thrown  upon  herself  by 
a  severe  disease  which  cut  her  off  from  the  sports  of  childhood. 
"My  soul  became  all  feeling,  all  memory,"  says  she,  "I  suffered 
and  I  loved :  this  was  the  peculiar  structure  of  my  heart.  In  the 
most  violent  fits  of  coughing,  in  the  depressing  pains  of  fever, 
I  lay  quiet,  like  a  snail  drawn  back  within  its  house :  the  moment 
I  obtained  a  respite,  I  wanted  to  enjoy  something  pleasant;  and, 
as  every  other  pleasure  was  denied  me,  I  endeavored  to  amuse 


96  GOETHE. 

myself  with  the  innocent  dehghts  of  eye  and  ear.  People  brought 
me  dolls  and  picture-books,  and  whoever  would  sit  by  my  bed 
was  obliged  to  tell  me  something." 

She  regained  her  health  and  tells  of  her  studies,  but  her  en- 
joyments lacked  the  giddiness  of  childhood.  Only  gradually  did 
she  become  fond  of  dancing,  and  for  a  while  at  this  time  her 
fancy  was  engaged  by  two  brothers,  but  both  died  and  faded 
from  her  memory.  Later  on  she  became  acquainted  with  a  young 
courtier  whom  she  calls  Narcissus,  and  on  one  occasion  when 
he  was  attacked  and  wounded  by  a  quick  tempered  ofihcer,  she 
became  engaged  to  him  and  cherished  this  young  man  with  great 
tenderness.  In  the  meantime  her  relation  to  God  asserted  itself 
at  intervals.  For  a  while  she  says  (and  these  are  her  very  words) 
"Our  acquaintance  had  grown  cool,"  and  later  on  she  continues: 
"With  God  I  had  again  become  a  httle  more  acquainted.  He 
had  given  me  a  bridegroom  whom  I  loved,  and  for  this  I  felt 
some  thankfulness.  Earthly  love  itself  concentrated  my  soul, 
and  put  its  powers  in  motion ;  nor  did  it  contradict  my  intercourse 
with  God." 

But  Narcissus  was  a  courtier  and  wanted  a  society  woman 
for  a  wife,  while  she  found  social  enjoyments  more  and  more 
insipid.  They  disturbed  her  relations  with  God,  so  much  so  in- 
deed that  she  felt  estranged  from  him.  She  says :  'T  often  went 
to  bed  with  tears,  and,  after  a  sleepless  night,  arose  again  with 
tears :  I  required  some  strong  support ;  and  God  would  not  vouch- 
safe it  me  while  I  was  running  with  cap  and  bells And 

doing  what  I  now  looked  upon  as  folly,  out  of  no  taste  of  my 
own,  but  merely  to  gratify  him,  it  all  grew  wofully  irksome  to 
me. 

The  lovers  became  cool  and  the  engagement  was  broken  off, 
— not  that  she  no  longer  loved  him.  She  says  in  this  auto- 
biography :  'T  loved  him  tenderly ;  as  it  were  anew,  and  much 
more  steadfastly  than  before. 

Nevertheless  he  stood  between  herself  and  God  and  for  the 
same  reason  she  refused  other  suitable  proposals.  Her  reputa- 
tion did  not  suffer  through  the  rupture  with  her  fiance.  On  the 
contrary  the  general  interest  in  her  grew  considerably  because 
she  was  regarded  as  "the  woman  who  had  valued  God  above  her 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


97 


bridegTOom."     In  passing  over  further  particulars  of  the  Hfe  of 
the  ''Beautiful  Soul,"  we  will  quote  her  view  of  hell: 

''Not  for  a  moment  did  the  fear  of  hell  occur  to  me ;  nay, 
the  very  notion  of  a  wicked  spirit,  and  a  place  of  punishment 
and  tcn-ment  after  death,  could  nowise  gain  admission  into  the 
circle  of  my  thoughts.     I  considered  the  men  who  lived  without 


SUSANNA  VOX  KLETTENBERG  I\  HER  FORTY-FOURTH  YEAR. 

In  the  Xational  Museum  at  \\'eimar. 


God,  whose  hearts  were  shut  against  the  trust  in  and  the  love  of 
the  Invisible,  as  already  so  unhappy,  that  a  hell  and  external 
pains  appeared  to  promise  rather  an  alleviation  than  an  increase 
of  their  misery.  I  had  but  to  look  upon  the  persons  in  this  world 
who  in  their  breasts  gave  scope  to  hateful  feelings;  who  hardened 
their  hearts  against  the  good  of  whatever  kind,  and  strove  to 


98  GOETHE. 

force  the  evil  on  themselves  and  others ;  who  shut  their  eyes  by 
day,  so  that  they  might  deny  the  shining  of  the  sun.  How  un- 
utterably wretched  did  these  persons  seem  to  me !  Who  could 
have  devised  a  hell  to  make  their  situation  worse?" 

Finally  through  the  influence  of  her  uncle  and  a  friendly 
counsellor  whom  she  calls  Philo  she  found  composure  of  mind 
which  she  expresses  thus : 

"It  was  as  if  my  soul  were  thinking  separately  from  the 
body ;  the  soul  looked  upon  the  body  as  a  foreign  substance,  as 
we  look  upon  a  garment.  The  soul  pictured  with  extreme  vivacity 
events  and  times  long  past,  and  felt,  by  means  of  this,  events  that 
were  to  follow.  Those  times  are  all  gone  ])y ;  what  follows  like- 
wise will  go  by;  the  body,  too,  will  fall  to  pieces  like  a  vesture; 
but  I,  the  well-known  I.   I  am." 

She  does  not  consider  her  life  as  a  sacrifice  but  on  the  con- 
trary as  the  attainment  of  an  unspeakable  joy.  She  says  at  the 
conclusion  of  her  autol)iography : 

'T  scarcely  rememl)er  a  commandment :  to  me  tliere  is  nothing 
that  assumes  the  aspect  of  law ;  it  is  an  impulse  that  leads  me, 
and  guides  me  always  aright.  I  freely  follow  my  emotions, 
and  know  as  little  of  constraint  as  of  repentance.  God  be  praised 
that  I  know  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  such  happiness,  and  that 
I  cannot  think  of  it  without  humility !  There  is  no  danger  I 
should  e\^er  become  proud  of  what  I  myself  can  do  or  can  for- 
bear to  do :  I  have  seen  too  well  what  a  monster  might  be  formed 
and  nursed  in  every  human  bosom,  did  not  a  higher  influence 
restrain  us." 

The  nobility  of  character  of  Fraulein  von  Klettenberg,  of 
this  "Beautiful  Soul,"  contrilnited  not  a  little  to  purify  the  young- 
poet's  mind,  and  her  interest  in  mysticism  caused  him  to  study 
alchem}^  and  to  read  the  works  of  Theophrastus,  Paracelsus, 
Agrippa  von  Nettesheim  and  other  occultists,  the  study  of  whose 
books  proved  helpful  in  the  composition  of  "Faust."  We  have 
evidence  that  this  thoughtful  and  mystical  lady  had  fantastic  in- 
clinations, for  when  one  of  her  friends,  Fraulein  von  Wunderer, 
entered  the  Cronstatt  Institute,  Susanne  had  her  own  portrait 
painted  for  her  in  the  dress  of  a  nun.  The  picture  came  into 
Goethe's  possession  in  1815. 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


99 


At  Wetzlar  on  the  Lahii  Goethe  met  Charlotte  Buff,  the 
daughter  of  an  imperial  government  official.  She  acted  as  a 
real  mother  to  her  many  younger  brothers  and  sisters  and  was 
engaged  to  be  married  to  Kestner,  secretary  to  the  Hanoverian 
legation.  Goethe  felt  greatly  attracted  to  the  young  lady  and, 
being  at  the  same  time  a  good  and  fast  friend  of  Kestner,  was 


CHARLOTTE  SOPHIE  HENRIETTE  BUFF. 

Later  on  wife  of  Johann   Christian   Kestner.     Redrawn   from   a 

pastel  in  the  possession  of  Georg  Kestner  of  Dresden. 

a  constant  visitor  at  the  home  of  her  father  in  the  Deutsche 
Haus.  Charlotte  was  made  the  heroine  of  "The  Sorrows  of 
Werther,"  and  as  Goethe's  acquaintance  with  her  was  followed 
by  the  sad  fate  of  his  friend  Jerusalem,  the  combination  sug- 
gested to  him  the  tragic  plot  of  this  novel. 


100 


GOETHE. 


THE   DEUTSCHE   HAUS,   SHOWING   THE   WINDOWS   OF   CHAR- 
LOTTE'S ROOM. 


CHARLOTTE  BUFFS  ROOM  IN  THE  DEUTSCHE  HAUS  AT 

WETZLAR. 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


101 


In  those  days  Goethe  was  in  an  irritable  and  ahiiost  patho- 
logical condition.  He  experienced  in  his  own  mind  a  deep  long- 
ing for  an  escape  from  the  restlessness  of  life,  and  in  his  auto- 
biography he  speaks  of  "the  efforts  and  resolutions  it  cost  him 
to  escape  the  billows  of  death."  His  friend  Alerck  came  to  the 
rescue.     From  the  dangerous  atmosphere  of  Wetzlar  he  took  him 


FRAU  SOPHIE  VON  LA  ROCHE. 

on  a  visit  to  the  jolly  circle  of  Frau  Sophie  von  La  Roche  at 
Ehrenbreitstein. 

Goethe  had  met  Frau  von  La  Roche  in  the  preceding  April 
(1772)  in  Homburg,  and  he  was  glad  to  renew  the  friendship 
at  this  critical  moment  of  his  life.  Born  December  6,  1731, 
Sophie  von  La  Roche  was  the  daughter  of  Dr.  Gutermann,  a 
physician  of  Kaufbeuren,  and  was  a  relative  and  childhood  com- 


102 


GOETHE. 


panion  of  Wielaiid  whose  friend  she  remained  throughout  her 
Hfe.  In  1754  she  married  Georg  Michael  Frank  von  Lichtenfels, 
surnamed  La  Roche.  As  an  author  she  is  hest  known  by  "Ro- 
saHe's  Letters  to  Her  Friend  IMariane."  She  had  two  beautiful 
daughters.  While  in  Ehrenbreitstein  Goethe  passed  the  time 
with  Maximiliana  in  a  harmless  Init  entertaining  flirtation,  before 


FRAU    MAXIMILIANA   BRENTANO. 
Daughter  of  Sophie  von  La  Roche,  and  mother  of  Bettina  von  Arnim. 


she  was  married  to  an  older  and  jealous  husband,  Mr.  Brentano. 
Frau  von  La  Roche  removed  with  her  husband  to  Speyer  and 
later  to  Offenbach  where  she  died  February  18,  1807. 

The  novels  and  moral  tales  of   Frau  von  La  Roche  were 
much  read  in  those  davs.     In  a  somewhat  sentimental  language 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


103 


she  advocated  marriage  for  love's  sake,  but  she  herself  did  what 
she  condemned  other  mothers  for;  she  urged  her  daughters  to 
accept  aged  husbands  for  the  sake  of  worldly  advantages.  Bet- 
tina,  the  daughter  of  Maximiliana,  will  be  mentioned  further  on. 


ANNA  ELISABETH  SCHOENEMANN :  GOETHE'S  LILI. 


During  the  winter  of  1774-75  Goethe  became  acquainted 
with  Anna  Elisabeth  Schonemann,  the  daughter  of  a  rich  banker, 
a  pretty  girl  of  sixteen  but  a  spoiled  child  and  a  flirt.  He  called 
her  Lili,  and  devoted  several  poems  to  her  which  are  exceedingly 
poetical  but  at  the  same  time  betray  his  dissatisfaction  with  the 


104 


GOETHE. 


charms  of  the  fascinating  young  lady.     In  'TiH's  Park"  he  com- 
pares her  many  lovers  to  a  menagerie   and  himself  to  a  bear 


LILI'S  MENAGERIE.    By  Kaulbach. 

who  does  not  fit  into  the  circle  of  his  mistress  at  the  Schonemann 
residence. 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN.  105 

In  April  1775  Goethe  was  officially  engaged  to  Lili,  but  the 
engagement  lasted  only  into  May ;  since  both  families  were  op- 
posed to  it,  it  was  soon  revoked.  Three  years  later  she  was 
married  to  the  Strassburg  banker  Bernhard  Friedrich  von  Tiirck- 
heim.     She  died  near  Strassburg  in  1817. 

The  poems  ''New  Love,  Xew  Life"  ;  "To  Belinde,"  and  ''Lili's 
Park"  are  dedicated  to  her,  and  some  later  songs  made  in  Wei- 
mar, "Hunter's  Evening  Song"  and  "To  a  Golden  Heart"  Goethe 
wrote  in  remembrance  of  Lili. 

^  ;{j  >jc 

While  Goethe's  heart  was  still  troubled  with  his  love  for  Lili, 
he  received  an  anonymous  letter  signed  "Gustchen."  The  writer 
gained  his  confidence  and  he  answered  with  unusual  frankness, 
telling  her  of  all  that  moved  him  and  especially  of  the  joys  and 
disappointments  of  his  courtship  with  Lili.  This  correspondence 
developed  into  a  sincere  and  pure  friendship  with  his  unknown 
correspondent,  and  Goethe  soon  found  out  that  Gustchen  was 
the  countess  Augusta  Stolberg,  the  sister  of  his  friends,  the 
brothers  Stolberg. 

^  ;JC  5^ 

In  the  summer  of  1775  when  Goethe  visited  his  friends  Bod- 
mer  and  Lavater  in  Zurich,  the  latter  introduced  him  to  his  friend 
Frau  Barbara  Schulthess,  nee  Wolf,  the  wife  of  a  merchant  in 
Zurich.  At  first  sight  she  was  not  particularly  attractive  nor  was 
she  brilliant  in  conversation,  but  she  had  a  strong  character  and 
impressed  her  personality  upon  all  .with  whom  she  came  in  con- 
tact. Her  connection  with  Goethe  has  not  been  sufficiently 
appreciated,  presumably  because  two  years  before  her  death 
(1818)  she  burned  all  the  letters  she  had  received  from  him. 
We  knaw^  however,  that  Goethe  submitted  to  her  most  of  his 
new  productions,  among  them  "Iphigenia,"  "Tasso"  and  ''Wilhelm 
Meister,"  and  he  appears  to  have  been  greatly  influenced  by  her 
judgment.  He  calls  her  die  HcrzlicJic,  "my  cordial  friend."  He 
is  known  to  have  met  her  on  only  two  occasions  afterwards,  in 
1782  and  again  on  October  23,  1797.  Herder  characterizes  her 
briefly  as  follows : 

"Frau  Schulthess,  to  be  brief,  is  a  she-man  (Mdnnin).     She 


106 


GOETHE. 


says  almost  nothing,  and  acts  without  any  show  of  verbiage.     She 
is  not  beautiful,  nor  well  educated,  only  strong  and  firm  without 


BARBARA  SCHULTHESS. 
After  a  painting  by  Tischbein  (1781)   in  possession  of  Dr.  Denzler-Ernst 

of  Zurich. 

coarseness.     She  is  stern  and  proud  without  spreading  herself, 
an  excellent  woman  and  a  splendid  mother.     Her  silence  is  m- 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


107 


MIGNON  IN  WILHELM  MEISTER. 
By  Kaulbach. 


108  GOETHE. 

structive  criticism.  To  me  she  is  a  monitor  and  a  staff ....  She 
is  only  useful  through  silence.  She  only  receives  and  does  not 
give  from  pure  humility,  from  true  pride." 

Through  her  a  most  important  work  of  Goethe's  has  been 
preserved,  which  is  nothing  less  than  his  original  conception  of 
"Wilhehu  Meister."  It  is  not  merely  a  variation  of  the  one  finally 
published,  but  a  different  novel  altogether,  three  times  as  large 
in  extent.  It  bore  the  title  JVilhcUn  Meister' s  theatralische  Sen- 
dung,  and  was  written  in  1777.  Goethe  sent  it  to  Frau  Schulthess, 
familiarly  called  Bebe,  in  1783,  and  the  entire  manuscript  was 
copied  partly  by  herself,  partly  by  her  daughter.  This  copy  was 
discovered  by  Dr.  Gustav  Villeter,  Professor  at  the  Zurich  Gym- 
nasium, to  whom  it  was  brought  by  one  of  his  scholars.  It  has 
been  edited  by  Dr.  H.  Mayne  and  was  published  in  1910. 


When  speaking  of  the  women  who  played  a  part  in  Goethe's 
life  we  must  not  forget  Corona  Schroter  (born  January  17,  1751, 
at  Guben).  She  had  met  Goethe  as  a  student  in  Leipsic  and  had 
at  that  time  been  greatly  impressed  by  the  charm  of  his  personal- 
ity. In  1776  she  was  engaged  as  a  concert  singer  in  court  circles 
at  Weimar,  and  to  her  were  assigned  the  heroine  parts  of  romantic 
love  dramas.  The  most  critical  minds  were  agreed  in  regarding 
her  as  one  of  the  greatest  stars  in  her  specialty,  and  she  was  also 
a  great  favorite  with  Goethe  who  sometimes  appeared  with  her 
on  the  stage.  She  was  the  first  Iphigenia  and  acted  the  role 
with  Goethe  as  Orestes.  A  good  drawing  of  one  of  these  scenes 
was  made  by  Georg  Melchior  Kraus.  Corona's  whole  appear- 
ance was  such  as  worthily  to  represent  the  Greek  heroine.  The 
audience  was  confined  to  the  ducal  court  of  Weimar,  and  no 
other  public  was  admitted.  In  Kraus's  picture  the  scenery  is 
in  so  far  misleading  as  it  suggests  that  the  play  was  performed 
in  the  open  air  at  Ettersburg,  but  we  know  definitely  that  'Tphi- 
genia"  w^as  first  performed  indoors. 

Later  on  Corona  Schroter  became  a  successful  teacher  of  reci- 
tation and  singing,  and  many  of  the  most  distinguished  Weimar 
ladies  were  her  pupils.  She  was  also  an  exquisite  and  gifted 
painter  and  composer.  She  set  to  music  Goethe's  ''Fisher  Maiden" 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


109 


of  which  the  Erl  King  is  a  part,  and  her  composition  of  this 
poem  appears  hke  a  rough  draft  of  Schubert's  more  elaborate, 
more  powerful  and  more  artistic  composition. 

This  little  drama,  Goethe's  'Tisher  Maiden/'  in  which  Corona 
Schroter  took  the  part  of  Dortchen,  was  performed  on  the  banks 
of   the   Ilm   at   Tiefurt,   tlie   summer   residence   of   the   Duchess 


CORONA  SCHROETER.* 
B}'  Anton  Graff. 

Anna  Amalia,  and  has  been  portrayed  in  a  wash  drawing  by 
Georg  Alelchior  Kraus.  The  picture  represents  the  first  scene. 
Dortchen  is  enraged  because  she  contends  that  women  are  not 
appreciated.     She  contrives  a  plot  in  which  she  makes  it  appear 

*The  picture  is  not  definitely  identified,  but  judging  from  tradition  and 
its  similarity  to  a  known  portrait  of  the  singer  there  can  scarcely  be  any 
doubt  that  slie  is  the  subject  of  the  painting. 


no 


GOETHE. 


that  there  has  been  an  accident.  She  hides  one  pail,  places  an- 
other on  a  plank  near  the  water,  and  throws  her  hat  among  the 
bushes  so  that  her  father  and  lover  will  think  she  is  drowned. 
After  these  preparations,  she  disappears  in  the  woods  just  as  the 
men  return  in  their  1)oat.     Thev  take  alarm  as  she  desired,  but 


I 


i 


IPHIGENIA  AND  ORESTES. 
By  Georg  Melchior  Kraus. 

after  a  while  their  fears  are  dissolved  when  she  returns  and  sets 
their  minds  at  rest. 

The  field  of  Corona  Schroter's  activity  was  not  limited  to 
the  stage,  for  she  was  endowed  with  almost  every  other  talent. 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


Ill 


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112. 


GOETHE. 


Moreover  her  charming  personahty  was  hke  an  incarnation  of 
the  heroines  she  represented.  When  Wieland  first  met  her  to- 
gether with  her  great  poet  friend  in  the  park,  he  described  her 
appearance  in  these  strong  terms : 


4 


CORONA  SCHROETER. 
By  Georg  Melchior  Kraus. 


I 


''There  we  found  Goethe  in  company  with  the  beautiful 
Corona  Schroter  who  in  the  infinitely  noble  Attic  elegance  of 
her  whole  figure  and  in  her  quite  simple  yet  infinitely  recherche 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


113 


and  insidious  costume  looked  like  the  nymph  of  the  charming 
tto." 
Goethe  called  her  Krone,  the  German  equivalent  of  Corona 


grotto. 


FRIEDRICH   HILDEBRAND   VON   EINSIEDEL. 

Drawing  by  Schmeller. 

meaning  "crown,"  and  in  his  poem  "On  Mieding's  Death"  refers 
to  her  suggestive  name  in  one  of  his  verses,  saying, 


114 


GOETHE. 


And  e'en  the  name  Corona  graces  thee. 

In  the  same  passage  he  dwells  on  her  advantage  in  being  en- 
dowed with  beauty,  a  queenly  figure,  and  all  the  arts,  saying: 

Unto  the  world  she  like  a  flower  appears, 
Is  beauty's  model  in  its  finished  state. 
She,  perfect,  doth  perfection  personate. 
The  Muses  did  to  her  each  grace  impart 
And  nature  in  her  soul  created  art. 

— Tr.  by  Boz^'riiig. 


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CUPTD  FEEDING  A  NIGHTINGALE. 


[Als  Blume  zeigt  sie  sich  der  Welt : 
Zum  Muster  wuchs  das  schone  Bild  empor, 
Vollendet  nun,  sie  ist's  und  stellt  es  vor. 
Es  gonnten  ihr  die  Musen  jede  Gunst, 
Und  die  Natur  erschuf  in  ihr  die  Kunst.] 


In  Weimar  she  was  a  favorite  with  almost  every  one  and 
was  especially  admired  by  Friedrich  von  Einsiedel.  Goethe  dedi- 
cated to  her  the  following  lines  inscribed  beneath  the  statue  of 
a  Cupid  feeding  a  nightingale,  which  adorned  the  Chateau  Tie- 
f  urt : 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN.  115 

Certainly  Cupid  has  raised  thee, 
O  singer ;  himself  he  has  fed  thee, 

And  on  his  arrow  the  god 

Childlike  presented  thy  food. 

Thus  Philomele,  thy  throat, 

Which  is  steeped  in  the  sweetest  of  poisons, 

Chanting  thy  strains  without  guile 

Fills  with  love's  power  our  hearts. 

[Dich  hat  Amor  gewiss,  O  Siingerin,  fiitternd  erzogen, 
Kindisch  reichte  der  Gott  dir  mit  dem  Pfeile  die  Kost, 
So,  durchdrungen  von  Gift  die  harmlos  atmende  Kehle, 
Trifft  mit  der  Liebe  Gewalt  nun  Philomele  das  Herz!] 

After  Corona  Schroter  retired  from  the  stage  she  made  her 
home  in  Dmenau  and  died  there  August  23,  1802. 

Anna  Amah  a,  Duchess  Dowager  of  Saxe- Weimar,  plays  a 
most  important  part  in  Goethe's  hfe;  and  her  influence  on  his 
destiny  cannot  be  overestimated,  for  she  was  the  guiding  star 
which  led  him  to  Weimar.  The  elevating  spirit  in  which  she 
dominated  the  social  atmosphere  of  the  small  duchy  contributed 
not  a  little  to  mature  the  untamed  spirit  of  the  wild  young  genius. 

Anna  Amalia  was  the  daughter  of  the  Duke  Karl  of  Bruns- 
wick. She  was  born  October  24,  1739,  and  was  married  to  the 
Duke  Constantin  of  Saxe- Weimar,  ^larch  16,  1756.  Her  hus- 
band died  on  May  28,  1758,  after  a  married  life  of  only  two 
years,  and  she  took  the  regency  until  her  son,  the  young  Duke 
Karl  August,  became  of  age,  September  3,  1775.  She  proved 
not  only  very  efficient  in  the  affairs  of  government  but  was  also 
a  good  mother  and  did  her  best  to  bestow  upon  her  son  a  broad 
and  liberal  education.  When  the  Duke  married  Louise,  the 
daughter  of  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse-Darmstadt,  these  three  royal 
personages,  the  Duke,  his  mother,  and  his  wife,  formed  an 
auspicious  trinity  in  their  love  and  patronage  of  German  litera- 
ture. 

E\'en  at  an  advanced  age  the  Duchess  preserved  her  beauty 
and  distinguished  appearance,  and  when  she  retired  from  active 
participation  in  the  government,  she  concentrated  her  interest 
in  belles  leffres,  art  and  everything  that  tends  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  mind.     She  died  at  Weimar,  April  10,  1807. 

The  painter  Kraus  immortalized  the  circle  of  the  Duchess 


116 


GOETHE. 


Amalia  in  a  watercolor  which  we  here  reproduce,  and  we  may 
assume  that  it  represents  a  scene  of  actual  life.  The  figures  as 
numbered  in  the  picture  are  (  1  )  Johann  Heinrich  ]\Ieyer,  called 


AMALIA,  DUCHESS  DOWAGER  OF  SAXE  WEIMAR. 
After  a  painting  by  Angelica  Kauffmann. 

Kunstmeyer,  born  in  Zurich  1760;  met  Goethe  on  his  Italian 
journey  1786;  was  called  as  professor  of  drawing  to  Weimar 
1791;   after    1807   director  of   the   academy;   died   October   11, 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN, 


117 


1832,  in  Jena.  (2)  Frau  Henriette  von  Fritsch,  nee  Wolfskell, 
lady-in-waiting.  (3)  Goethe.  (4)  Friedrich  Hildebrand  von 
Einsiedel,  councilor  in  the  government  at  Weimar,  later  chief 


DUCHESS  DOWAGER  AMALIA  IN  ADVANCED  YEARS. 
Etching  by  Steinla,  after  a  painting  by  Jagemann. 

master  of  ceremonies  of  Dnchess  Amalia.  (5)  Duchess  Amalia. 
(6)  Elise  Gore.  (7)  Charles  Gore.  (8)  Emilie  Gore.  (9) 
Fraulein  von  G5chhausen,  lady-in-waiting.     (10)  Herder.    Frau- 


118 


GOETHE. 


lein  von  Gochhausen  has  come  into  prominence  of  late  from  the 
fact  that  she  copied  Goethe's  first  draft  of  "Faust,"  and  this  docu- 


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ment  was  discovered  by  Professor  Erich  Schmidt  in  1887.     She 
was  one  of  the  most  faithful  of  the  attendants  of  the  duchess, 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


119 


and  in  Goethe  literature  is  sometimes  simply  called  Thusnelda 
and  sometimes,  on  account  of  her  deformity,  Gnomide. 


CASTLE  KOCHBERG,  MANSION  ON  THE  STEIN  ESTATE. 

Drawn  by  Goethe. 

Among  the  acquaintances  Goethe  made  in  Weimar  was  Char- 
lotte von  Stein,  the  wife  of  the  Master  of  Horse.      She  was 


120 


GOETHE. 


seven  years  older  than  Goethe  and  mother  of  seven  children,  to 
the  eldest  of  whom,  called  Fritz,  Goethe  was  greatly  attached. 


FRIEDRICH  CONSTANTIN  VON   STEIN    (CALLED  FRITZ). 

Drawing  by  Schmeller,  about   1819. 

Goethe's  correspondence  with  Charlotte  von  Stein  throws  much 

light  upon  the  poet's  thoughts  and  sentiments  and  explains  the 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


121 


origin  of  many  of  his  poems.  Among  the  poems  dedicated  to 
her  we  will  mention  "Restless  Love,"  "To  Linda,"  "Dedication," 
and  above  all  the  two  short  poems  entitled  "Wanderer's  Night- 


song, 


"4 


5ft  ^  ^ 


On  his  return  from  a  journey  to  Italy  Goethe's  relations  to 
Frau  von  Stein  had  become  cool.     In   1788  he  met  Christiana 


CHRISTIANA  VULPIUS. 

Vulpius  who  handed  him  a  petition  in  favor  of  her  brother.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  a  talented  man,  who,  however,  had  lost  his 
situation  through  love  of  liquor.  Christiana's  position  in  life 
was  a  humble  one.     She  worked  in  the  flower  factory  of  Mr. 

*  For  the  text  and  translations  of  these  songs  see  pp.  217-219. 


122 


GOETHE. 


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Mis  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


123 


Bertuch,  a  business  man  who  had  done  much  to  develop  Weimar 
and  of  whom  we  have  previously  given  some  account.^  The 
girl  was  a  buxom  country  lass  with  rosy  cheeks  and  a  simple- 
hearted  disposition.  Goethe  took  a  fancy  to  her  and  used  to  meet 
her  in  his  garden  house.  We  have  a  picture  of  her,  drawn  by 
Goethe  himself,  which  shows  her  as  a  demure  maiden  sitting 
quietly  at  a  simple  table.  On  the  wall  hang  pictures  of  Rome. 
The  small  picture  is  Tischbein's  sketch  of  his  painting  of  Goethe 
on  the  ruins  of  the  Campagna.^ 


CHRISTIANA  ASLEEP. 
Drawn  by  Goethe  in  illustration  of  his  poem. 

Once  it  happened  that  Goethe  kept  Christiana  waiting  so  long 
that  she  grew  first  impatient,  then  sleepy,  and  when  he  arrived 
he  could  not  find  her.  Searching  around  he  finally  discovered 
her  curled  up  in  the  corner  of  a  sofa  fast  asleep : 

In  the  hall  I  did  not  find  the  maiden, 
Found  the  maiden  not  within  the  parlor. 
And  at  last  on  opening  the  chamber 
Found  I  her  asleep  in  graceful  posture; 
Fully  dressed  she  lay  upon  the  sofa. 


See  page  Z7. 


See  page  41. 


124 


GOETHE. 


[Auf  dem  Saale  fand  ich  nicht  das  Madchen, 
Fand  das  jNIadchen  nicht  in  ihrer  Stube. 
Endlich,  da  ich  leis  die  Kammer  offne, 
Fand  ich  sie,  gar  zierHch  eingeschlafen, 
Angekleidet  auf  dem  Sopha  Hegen.] 

Goethe  brought  her  into  his  home  where  she  took  charge  of 
the  household.  A  charming  httle  poem  is  dedicated  to  her 
which  describes  their  meeting  in  a  figurative  way.  In  the  trans- 
lation of  William  Gibson  it  reads  as  follows : 


I  walked  in  the  woodland, 
And  nothing  sought ; 

Simply  to  saunter — ■ 
That  was  my  thought. 

T  saw  in  shadow 

A  floweret  rise, 
Like  stars  it  glittered. 

Like  lovely  eyes. 

I  would  have  plucked  it. 

When  low  it  spake : 
'My  bloom  to  wither. 

Ah  !  wherefore  break  ?' 

I  dug,  and  bore  it. 

Its  roots  and  all, 
To  garden-shades  of 

My  pretty  hall. 

And  planted  now  in 
A  sheltered  place, 

There  grows  it  ever 
And  blooms  apace. 


[Ich  ging  im  Walde 
So  fiir  mich  bin, 
LTnd  nichts  zu  suchen, 
Das  war  mein  Sinn. 

Im  Schatten  sah  ich 
Ein  Bliimchen  stehn, 
Wie  Sterne  leuchtend. 
Wie  Aeuglein  schon. 

Ich  wollt'  es  brechen, 
Da  sagt'  es  fein : 
Soil  ich  zum  Welken 
Gebrochen  sein  ? 

Ich  grub's  mit  alien 
Den  Wiirzlein  aus, 
Zum  Garten  trug  ich's 
Am  hiibschen  Haus. 

Und  pflanzt'  es  wieder 
Am  stillen  Ort ; 
Nun  zweigt  es  immer 
Und  bliiht  so  fort.] 


I 


Goethe  married  Christiana  October  19,  1806. 


Madame  Goethe  was  not  welcomed  socially  in  the  homes  of 
Weimar,  nor  was  her  presence  deemed  desirable  at  court.  The 
first  lady  who  recei\'ed  her  was  Johanna  Schopenhauer,  the 
mother  of  the  famous  pessimist.  She  had  just  moved  to  Weimar 
in  1806  after  the  death  of  her  husband,  a  banker  of  Danzig. 
Johanna  Schopenhauer  was  at  the  time  a  popular  author,  while 
her  son,  the  philosopher,  was  almost  unknown.  Goethe,  how- 
ever, prophesied  that  the  gloomy  young  thinker  would  sometime 
grow  above  the  heads  of  his  contemporaries,  and  the  latter,  con- 


i 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


125 


scious  of  his  own  importance,  said  to  his  mother  in  a  dispute 
about  the  worth  of  their  respective  writings,  that  his  works, 
then  ignored,  would  be  read  when  her  novels  would  moulder  in 
the  attic  as  waste  paper. 

On  May  8,  1814,  Goethe  dedicated  to  the  pessimist  philos- 


FRAU  JOHANNA  SCHOPENHAUER  AND  HER  DAUGHTER.  ADELE 

opher  two  lines  which  the  Schopenhauer  Gesellschaft  has  pub- 
lished in  its  first  annual  in  Goethe's  own  handwriting  as  he  wrote 
it  down  for  Schopenhauer  'Svith  reference  to  and  in  memory  of 
many  friendly  discussions."     The  couplet  reads  as  follows: 

"Willst  du  dich  deines  Werthes  freuen, 
So  musst  der  Welt  du  Werth  verleihen." 


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HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN.  127 

In  this  epigram  Goethe  has  immortaHzed  his  critical  view  of 
Schopenhauer's  pessimism.  This  is  the  sum  total  of  his  opinion 
of  the  badness  of  the  world  which  he  had  discussed  with  Schopen- 
hauer in  many  confidential  talks,  as  Goethe  himself  says.  The 
lines  were  written  in  consequence  of  these  discussions  as  a 
souvenir  for  the  philosopher.  When  this  poem  was  published 
by  Goethe's  publisher,  Gotta,  in  1815,  Schopenhauer  wrote  on 
the  margin  of  his  copy  "Mihi  A.  S.,"  which  means,  "This  verse 
was  written  especially  for  me." 

No  better  answer  could  have  been  given  to  pessimism,  no 
better  criticism  and  no  better  comment  could  have  been  made 
upon  it  than  is  contained  in  this  verse.  We  can  very  well 
imagine  that  Goethe  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  truth  of 
Schopenhauer's  views.  There  can  be  no  question  that  the  world 
is  full  of  misery,  and  that  at  best  "its  strength  is  labor  and  sor- 
row." But  after  all,  the  world  as  it  is  is  the  fact  which  we  have 
to  face,  and  it  is  our  business  to  make  the  best  of  it.  The  world 
to  us  is  how  we  mold  circumstances  and  what  part  we  play  in 
it,  and  thus  the  poet  says : 

Thy  worth,  wouldst  have  it  recognized? 
Give  to  the  v^^orld  a  worth  that's  prized. 

The  question  is  not  whether  the  world  is  bad  or  good,  but 

whether  our  life  is  worth  the  living,  and  if  it  is  not  in  our  power 

to  change  the  constitution  of  the  world  it  is  our  duty  to  acquire 

worth  ourselves. 

*       *       * 

In  1797  Karoline  Jagemann,  distinguished  both  as  a  singer 
and  an  actress,  filled  an  engagement  at  the  Weimar  theater.  She 
was  born  at  Weimar  on  January  15,  1777,  and  began  her  career 
on  the  stage  at  Mannheim  at  the  age  of  fifteen.  Four  years  later 
she  returned  to  her  native  city  to  take  a  leading  place  in  both 
opera  and  drama.  She  possessed  not  only  remarkable  beauty  and 
a  queenly  bearing,  but  was  also  distinguished  by  rare  talent  and 
gained  the  favor  of  the  Duke,  who  conferred  nobility  upon  her 
under  the  name  of  Frau  von  Heygendorf.  Strange  to  say  she 
is  the  only  woman  of  Goethe's  acquaintance  who  was  hostile 
to  him.  She  used  her  influence  with  the  Duke  to  intrigue  against 
the  poet  and  caused  him  so  tnuch  annoyance  that  he  considered 


128 


GOETHE. 


it  a  relief  when  in  1817  he  resigned  his  position  as  director  of 
the  theater. 

Frau  von  Heygendorf  is  of  special  interest  to  us  because 
she  is  the  only  woman  to  whom  the  pessimist  and  woman-hater 
Schopenhauer  addressed  a  love  poem.  That  Schopenhauer  was 
not  entirely  proof  against  feeling  admiration  for  intellectual 
women  is  evidenced  by  his  relation  to  Elizabet  Ney,  the  sculp- 
tor, who  modelled  his  bust,  the  only  one  of  him  in  existence.  The 
case  of  Frau  von  Heygendorf,  however,  is  more  serious,  as  his 


I 
I 


CAROLINE  VON  HEYGENDORF,  NEE  JAGEMANN. 

interest  in  her  might  have  induced  him  to  forget  his  prejudice 
against  marriage.  Wilhelm  von  Gwinner  publishes  the  facsimile 
of  Schopenhauer's  poem  in  the  third  Jahrbiich  dcr  Schopenhaucr- 
Gcscllschaft,  1914,  and  writes  as  follows  (as  communicated  by 
Prof.  Paul  Deussen  in  the  preface,  page  ix)  : 

"He  (Schopenhauer)  felt  personally  drawn  to  only  one  per- 
son, the  actress  Karoline  Jagemann.  'This  woman,'  he  owned 
once  to  his  mother,  '.  .  .  .1  would  make  my  wife  (heiiufiihren) 
even  if  I  had  picked  her  up  breaking  stones  on  the  highway.' 
By  the  bye,  she  was  ten  years  his  senior.  His  only  love  poem, 
written  in  the  winter  of  1809,  was  inspired  by  her.  She  visited 
him  in  Frankfort  as  Frau  von  Heygendorf,  on  which  occasion 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN, 


129 


ARTHUR  SCHOPENHAUER. 
Bust  by  Elisabet  Ney. 


130 


GOETHE. 


he  had  read  to  her  his  parable  of  the  company  of  porcupines  just 
written  at  that  time  (Parerga  II,  396)  which  she  had  greatly 
enjoyed." 

.  The  poem  describes  a  chorus  of  singers  who  went  out  to 
serenade  the  actress  on  a  murky  day.  The  philosopher  joins 
them  and  is  disappointed  that  she  does  not  appear  at  the  window. 


LUDWIG  JOACHIM  VON  ARNIM 
Known  as  Achim  von  Arnim. 


CLEMENS  BRENTANO. 


The  versification  is  poor,  and  the  sentiment  expressed  almost 
trivial.     The  last  stanza  reads  as  follows : 


The  chorus  goes  parading; 
Linger  in  vain  mine  eyes. 
The  sun  is  veiled  by  curtains, 
My  fate  beclouded  lies. 

[Der  Chor  zieht  durch  die  Gassen, 
Vergebens  weilt  mein  Blick, 
Die  Sonne  hiillt  der  Vorhang — 
Bewolkt  ist  mein  Geschick.] 


< 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


131 


BETTINA  VON  ARNIM,  NEE  BRENTANO. 
Enlarged  from  a  miniature  by  A.  von  Achim  Baerwalde. 


132 


GOETHE. 


In  April,  1807,  Bettina  Brentano  (later  Fran  von  Arnim) 
the  daughter  of  Maximiliana  von  La  Roche,  and  a  sister  of  the 
poet  Clemens  Brentano,  visited  Goethe  and  was  well  received. 
Being  an  exceedingly  pretty  girl  of  a  romantic  disposition,  she 
soon  entered  into  a  friendship  with  tlie  famous  poet  which  con- 


MINNA  HERZLIEB. 

tinned  for  some  time ;  but  she  caused  him  so  much  annoyance 
through  her  eccentricities  that  Goethe  was  glad  of  an  opportunity 
to  break  with  her.  When  once  in  1811  she  behaved  disrespect- 
fully to  his  wife,  Frau  Geheimerath  Goethe,  he  forbade  Bettina 
his  house. 


HIS  RELATION   TO   WOMEN. 


133 


Goethe  had  corresponded  with  Bettina,  and  some  time  after 
his  death  she  pubhshed  letters  that  purported  to  be-  their  cor- 
respondence, under  the  title  "Goethe's  Correspondence  with  a 
Child."  Whatever  of  this  book  may  be  genuine,  we  know  that 
it  is  greatly  embellished  and  shows  Goethe  in  a  wrong  light. 
Poems  addressed  to  Minna  Herzlieb  are  appropriated  by  Bettina, 
and  Goethe  is  made  to  express  sentiments  which  cannot  have  been 
in  the  original  letters. 


FRAU  MARIANNE  VON  WILLEMER,  NEE  JUNG. 
Engraved  by  Doris  Raab,  1814. 


^linna  Herzlieb  (born  May  22,  1789,  in  Ziilichau)  was  edu- 
cated in  the  house  of  the  publisher  Frommel  at  Jena,  where 
Goethe  made  her  acquaintance  and  entertained  a  fatherly  friend- 
ship for  her.  We  may  assume  that  he  loved  her,  though  the  word 
'iove"  was  never  spoken  between  them.  It  is  believed  that  she 
furnished  the  main  features  for  the  character  of  Ottilie  in  the 
"Elective  Affinities"  which  he  planned  at  that  time.  She  was 
married  in  1821  to  Professor  Walch  of  Jena  but  later  separated 


134 


GOETHE. 


from  her  husband.      She   suffered   from  melanchoha   and   died 
July  10,  1865,  in  a  sanitarium  at  Goerhtz. 


At  the  celebration  of  the  first  anniversary  of  the  battle  of 
Leipsic  in  1814,  Goethe  visited  his  native  city,  where  he  met  a 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


135 


rich  banker,  the  privy  councilor  Johann  Jacob  von  Willemer. 
On  the  Willemer  estate  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Gerbermiihle  near 
Offenbach,  the  poet  made  the  acquaintance  of  Marianne  Jung, 
later  Frau  von  Willemer,  a  most  attractive  and  highly  intellectual 
lady.  She  was  born  November,  1784,  as  the  daughter  of  Mat- 
thias Jung,  a  manufacturer  of  musical  instruments  at  Linz  on  the 


MARIANNE  VON  WILLEMER. 


Danube,  but  since  her  father  died  during  her  childhood  the 
young  girl  was  compelled  to  make  her  own  living,  and  she  joined 
the  Thaub  ballet  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main  in  1799.  She  ap- 
peared on  the  stage,  but  the  privy  councilor  who  was  in  charge 
of  the  business  management  of  the  theater  soon  rescued  the 
charming  maiden  from  the  dangers  of  a  theatrical  career.     He 


1 36  GOETHE. 

took  her  into  his  home  and  had  her  educated  as  if  she  were  his 
own  daughter.  Very  soon  after  their  acquaintance  with  Goethe 
in  August,  1814,  Marianne  became  the  wife  of  her  then  widowed 
benefactor,  September  27  of  the  same  year. 

Goethe  enjoyed  the  company  of  the  Willemer  family  so  much 
that  he  visited  them  at  Frankfort  again  for  a  few  days  in  1815. 
He  never  saw  them  afterwards  but  remained  in  correspondence 
with  Frau  von  Willemer  to  the  end  of  his  life.  With  all  her  warm 
friendship  for  Goethe,  Marianne  never  ceased  to  be  a  dutiful 
wife.  Her  husband  knew  of  her  letters  to  the  poet  and  found 
no  fault  with  her.  This  correspondence  was  published  in  1877 
and  contains  also  a  letter  of  Eckermann  with  an  account  of 
Goethe's  last  moments.  She  influenced  Goethe  while  he  wrote 
the  "West-Eastern  Divan,"  many  verses  of  which  (especially  the 
Suleika  stanzas)  literally  express  her  own  sentiments. 

Goethe's  wife  died  June  6,  1816,  and  he  felt  the  loss  more 
keenly  than  might  have  been  expected.  He  felt  lonely  in  his 
home  until,  after  the  marriage  of  his  only  son  August  with  Ottilie 
von  Pogwisch,  he  saw  his  grandchildren  grow  up  around  him. 
Ottilie,  born  October  31,  1796,  in  Danzig,  was  the  daughter  of 
Baron  Pogwisch  and  his  wife,  nee  countess  Henckel  von  Don- 
nersmarck.  She  was  educated  at  AVeimar  where  her  mother  was 
mistress  of  ceremonies  at  the  ducal  coiu't.  She  was  married  to 
August  von  Goethe  in  1817  and  bore  him  three  children,*  Walther 
Wolfgang,  born  April  9,  1818,  Wolfgang  Maximilian,  born  Sep- 
tember 18,  1820,  and  Alma,  born  October  29,  1827. 

;jj  ;j;  ^ 

In  the  year  1823  Goctlie  became  deeply  interested  in  Ulrike 
von  Levetzow,  whose  mother  he  had  formerly  met  in  Carlsbad 
in  company  with  her  parents,  Herr  and  Frau  Brosigke.  Amalia 
Brosigke  had  first  l^een  married  to  a  Herr  von  Levetzow,  who 
was  court  marshal  of  Mecklenburg-Schwerin,  and  by  this  mar- 
riage she  had  two  daughters,  Ulrike  and  Amalia.  After  a  divorce 
she  married  her  husband's  cousin  Friedrich  von  Levetzow,  an 
officer  who  met  his  death  in  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  By  this 
second  marriage  Amalia  von  Levetzow  had  another  daughter 
named  Bertha,  and  Goethe  met  the  interesting  widow  and  her 

^  See  above,  pages  63-65. 


HIS  RELATION  TO   WOMEN. 


137 


three  daughters  in  IMarienbad  in  1821  and  1822.  He  feh  a  deep 
attachment  for  the  eldest  daughter  Uh'ike,  and  to  characterize 
their  relation  we  quote  one  of  his  letters  to  her,  dated  January  9. 
1823,  in  whicli  he  speaks  of  himself  as  "her  loving  papa"  and 


OTTILIE   VOX   GOETHE,   NEE  VOX    POGWISCH. 
After  a  crayon  drawing  by  Heinrich  Miiller  about  1820. 

also  mentions  her  daughterly   affection.      The  letter   in  answer 
to  one  of  hers  reads  thus : 

"Your  sweet  letter,  my  dear,  has  given  me  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure, and  indeed  doubly  so  on  account  of  one  particular  circum- 
stance. For  though  your  loving  papa  always  remembers  his 
faithful   and  lovely  daughter,   yet   for   some  time  her   welcome 


138  GOETHE. 

figure  has  been  more  clearly  and  vividly  before  my  inner  vision 
than  ever.  But  now  the  matter  is  explained.  It  was  just  those 
days  and  hours  when  you  too  were  thinking  of  me  to  a  greater 
degree  than  usual  and  felt  the  inclination  to  give  expression  to 
your  thoughts  from  afar. 

"Therefore  many  thanks,  my  love;  and  at  the  same  time  my 
best  wishes  and  greetings  to  your  kind  mother  of  whom  I  like  to 
think  as  a  shining  star  on  my  former  horizon.  The  excellent 
physician  who  has  so  entirely  restored  her  liealth  shall  also  be 
an  honored  ^sculapius  to  me. 

"So  be  assured  that  my  dearest  hope  for  the  whole  year  would 


ULRIKE  VON  LEVETZOW. 

After  a  pastel  miniature. 

be  again  to  enter  your  cheerful  family  circle  and  to  find  all  its 
members  as  kindly  disposed  as  when  I  said  farewell 

"So,  my  darling,  I  bespeak  your  daughterly  consideration  for 
the  future.  May  I  find  in  your  company  as  much  health  in  that 
valley  among  the  mountains  (Marienbad)  and  in  its  springs  as  I 
hope  again  to  see  you  joyous  and  happy." 

When  Goethe  met  the  Levetzow  family  late  in  the  following 
summer  his  attachment  for  Ulrike  became  so  strong  that  though 
he  was  then  74  years  old  he  seriously  thought  of  marrying  this 
charming  young  girl  of  nineteen.  But  the  difference  in  their 
ages  seemed  too  great  an  obstacle.  He  resigned  himself  and  in  the 
same  year  wrote  the  "Trilogy^  of  Passion"  which  was  dedicated 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


139 


to  Ulrike.  This  summer  in  Marienbad  was  the  last  occasion 
on  which  they  met.  Ulrike  never  married  and  died  at  an  ad- 
vanced age  in  1899. 


KOLBE'S  GOETHE  PORTRAIT. 


Goethe  lived  in  a  house  of  glass  in  the  sense  that  all  he  ever 
did  or  that  ever  happened  to  him  lies  before  us  like  an  open  book. 
During  his  lifetime  he  was  watched  by  many  curious  people,  by 


140 


GOETHE. 


both  friends  and  enemies,  and  the  gossips  of  Weimar  noted  whom 
he  visited  or  on  whom  he  called.  Even  to-day  we  can  almost 
study  his  life  day  by  day,  and  know  whom  he  ever  met  or  how 
he  busied  himself.  Every  letter  of  his  that  is  still  extant  has 
been  published,  and  we  have  an  insight  into  every  one  of  his 
friendships,  yet  nothing  has  ever  been  discovered  that  could  be 


FRAU  CHARLOTTE  VON  STEIN,  NEE  SCHARDT. 
Drawn  l)v  herself,  1790. 


used  to  his  dishonor,  or  would  support  the  malicious  accusations 
of  his  enemies.  The  married  women  to  whom  Goethe  was  at- 
tracted never  tried  to  conceal  their  friendship  with  the  poet, 
nor  did  their  husbands  see  any  reason  to  enter  a  protest.  Ap- 
parently the  good  conscience  which  Goethe  enjoyed  made  him 
unconcerned  about  the  possibility  of  stirring  gossip;  and  yet  he 


HIS  RELATION  TO  WOMEN. 


141 


FRAU  CHARLOTTE  VON  STEIN. 
After  a  painting  by  H.  Meyer,  1780,  in  the  Grand-Duke's  Museum 

at  Weimar. 


142  GOETHE. 

felt  it  deeply,  and  .sometimes  gave  expression  to  his  indignation, 
as  for  instance  in  a  letter  to  Fran  von  Stein,  May  24,  1776.  He 
said:  "Even  the  relation,  the  purest,  most  beautiful  and  truest 
in  which,  except  to  my  sister,  I  ever  stood  to  a  woman,  is  thus 
disturbed ....  The  world  which  can  be  nothing  to  me,  does  not 
want  that  you  should  be  something  to  me." 

While  at  different  times  Goetlie  cherished  several  friendships 
with  different  women,  and  while  his  poetic  nature  seemed  to  need 
a  stimulation  in  different  ways  and  by  different  characters,  he 
longed  for  an  ideal  monogamy  in  which  all  his  friendship  and 
love  would  be  concentrated  on  one  woman,  but  fate  did  not  grant 
him  this  boon.  He  expresses  his  wish  in  a  letter  to  Frau  von 
Stein,  dated  March  2,  1779,  as  follows:  "It  is  an  unpleasant  idea 
to  me  that  there  was  a  time  when  you  did  not  know  and  love  me. 
Should  I  come  again  upon  earth,  I  will  ask  the  gods  that  I  may 
love  only  one,  and  if  you  were  not  so  opposed  to  this  world,  I 
would  then  ask  you  to  become  this  dear  companion  of  mine." 

Goethe  was  human,  and  his  life,  his  passions,  his  interests 
and  his  work  were  thoroughly  human.  We  will  not  make  out 
that  he  was  a  saint,  but  grant  that  he  had  human  failings.  We 
claim,  however,  that  even  his  failings  had  no  trace  of  vulgarity 
and  that  his  character  was  much  purer  than  that  of  many  a  saint 
whom  we  know  not  in  his  sins  but  only  in  his  contrition  and 
repentance.  Goethe  did  not  want  to  be  anything  but  human 
and  so  he  portrays  his  humanity  without  trying  to  make  it  appear 
different  from  what  it  was,  and  with  all  his  shortcomings  we 
must  come  to  the  conclusion  that  his  humanity  was  ennobled 
by  all  the  considerations  demanded  by  reason  as  well  as  a  respect 
for  the  rights  of  others.  While  he  did  not  hesitate  to  enjoy  him- 
self he  never  lost  self-control  nor  did  he  ever  do  anvthing  that 
would  cause  remorse. 


GOETHE'S  PERSONALITY. 

GOETHE  was  of  a  fine  stature  and  had  a  prepossessing 
noble  face.  He  had  large  bright  eyes  and  generally  wore  a 
serene  and  kindly  expression.  We  know  from  many  reports  of 
his  contemporaries  that  his  appearance  was  striking,  although 
we  may  fairly,  well  take  for  granted  that  most  of  the  portraits 
made  of  Goethe  are  idealized.  This  is  especially  the  case  of 
the  bust  made  by  Alexander  Trippel  (born  1744  at  Schaffhausen, 
died  September  24,  1793  at  Rome).  He  met  Goethe  in  Rome, 
and  the  bust  he  made  of  the  poet  is  commonly  called  Goethe's 
Apollo  bust,  because  it  bears  an  unmistakable  resemblance  to  the 
Belvidere  statue  of  the  god  of  music  and  poetry.  Goethe  wrote 
of  this  piece  of  art  under  September  14,  1787:  ''My  bust  is  very 
well  executed.  Everybody  is  satisfied  with  it.  Certainly  it  is 
wrought  in  a  beautiful  and  noble  style,  and  I  have  no  objection 
that  posterity  should  think  I  looked  like  this." 


As  a  rule  Goethe  enjoyed  good  health,  but  when  a  child  he 
not  only  passed  through  all  the  usual  children's  diseases  but 
also  the  dangerous  black  pox.  In  his  eighteenth  year  at  Leipsic 
he  suffered  from  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs  and  remained  for 
some  time  in  a  critical  condition.  In  later  years  he  observed  the 
rules  of  hygienic  living  and  only  once  afterwards  suffered  any 
dangerous  disease.  Slight  disturbances  of  his  health  he  would 
not  allow  to  interfere  with  his  work,  for  he  exercised  his  will 
power  and  was  firmly  convinced  that  a  man  could  overcome  the 
danger  of  infection  by  courage,  while  fear  of  a  disease  rendered 


144 


GOETHE. 


THE  APOLLO  BUST  OF  GOETHE. 
By  A.  Trippei. 


Goethe's  personality. 


145 


the  system  liable  to  succumb  to  it.     He  said  to  Eckermann  (April 

7,  1829)  : 

''It  is  remarkable  what  the  moral  will  can  accomplish.     It 
pervades  the  body,  so  to  speak,  and  puts  it  in  an  active  condition 


GOETHE  IN  HIS  EIGHTY-THIRD  YEAR. 
After  an  engraving  by  Schwerdgeburth. 

that  throws  off  all  injurious  influences.  Fear,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  a  condition  of  cowardly  weakness  and  susceptibility  which 
makes  it  easy  for  every  foe  to  gain  possession  of  us." 


146  GOETHE. 

He  repeated  this  opinion  in  the  last  year  of  his  hfe  (March 
21,  1831)  : 

''I  often  suffer  from  abdominal  trouble,  but  a  determined 
will  and  the  powers  of  my  superior  parts  keep  me  going.  The 
spirit  must  not  yield  to  the  body.  I  work  more  easily  when  the 
barometer  is  high  than  when  it  is  low.  Since  I  have  discovered 
this  I  try  by  greater  exertion  to  overcome  the  evil  effects  of  the 
low  barometer,  and  I  succeed  very  well." 

't^  '**  'K 

Goethe's  genius  consisted  mainly  in  what  may  be  called  ''ob- 
jectivity." It  was  a  significant  trait  of  his  character  that  he 
was  able  to  view  the  world  and  the  persons  with  whom  he  came 
in  contact  with  a  minimum  degree  of  personal  equation.  His 
soul  was  like  a  perfect  mirror  which  reproduced  his  surroundings 
with  great  correctness  and  impartiality.  He  was  conscious  of 
this  himself.  Whenever  his  genius  was  praised  in  his  presence 
he  used  to  explain  it  in  some  such  words  as  these,  recorded  to 
have  been  spoken  to  Chancellor  von  Miiller :  'T  permit  objects 
to  make  their  impression  upon  me  quietly.  I  observe  the  effect 
and  endeavor  to  reproduce  it  faithfully  and  without  vitiation. 
That  is  the  whole  secret  of  what  men  are  pleased  to  call  genius." 

In  the  same  way  he  spoke  to  M.  Soret,  the  tutor  of  the 
young  princes :  ''By  no  means  do  I  owe  my  works  to  my  own 
wisdom,  but  to  thousands  of  people  and  things  around  me  that 
have  furnished  the  material.  There  came  to  me  fools  and  sages, 
bright  minds  and  narrow,  childhood  and  youth  as  well  as  mature 
age.  All  told  me  their  opinions,  how  they  lived  and  worked  and 
what  experiences  they  had  gathered,  and  I  liad  nothing  else  to  do 
but  go  to  work  and  reap  what  others  had  sown  for  me." 

The  objectivity  of  Goethe's  character  enabled  him  to  work 
out  the  dramatis  personae  of  his  dramas  with  great  perfection. 
It  is  true  that  the  main  characters  always  reflected  one  or  another 
trait  of  himself,  and  mostly  in  an  exaggerated  degree.  Goethe 
was  Werther  himself,  and  he  experienced  the  pathological  con- 
dition so  marvelously  described  in  his  book ;  but  Goethe  possessed 
sufficient  strength  to  diagnose  his  own  case  and  as  soon  as  he 
had  worked  it  out  in  good  literary  form  he  had  rid  himself  of 
the  disease. 


Goethe's  personality.  147 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  Goethe's  novels  are  by  no  means 
characteristic  of  his  genius,  and  we  deem  it  regrettable  that 
in  certain  circles  they  are  read  more  than  his  other  works. 
Goethe  has  incorporated  the  pathology  of  his  own  development 
in  all  his  books,  but  his  novels,  "Werther,"  "Elective  Affini- 
ties," and  "Wilhelm  Meister,"  contain  much  that  would  better 
have  been  relegated  to  oblivion.  It  is  true  that  problems  are 
treated  in  them  which  will  always  command  the  interest  of  the 
student  of  psychology,  but  this  being  the  case  we  must  remember 
that  the  book  should  not  be  taken  by  the  broad  public  as  ideal 
literature,  but  should  bear  a  warning  sub-title,  such  as  "Studies 
for  the  Pathologist."  It  takes  a  deeper  knowledge  of  the  human 
mind  to  appreciate  the  genius  here  displayed,  which  as  in  all  of 
Goethe's  works  reflects  the  objectivity  of  his  mind. 

This  same  objectivity  in  Goethe's  character  enabled  him  to 
understand  persons  who  were  different  from  himself,  and  to  be 
just  to  every  one.  Part  of  his  success  in  life  is  due  to  his  mar- 
velous faculty  of  treating  persons  in  the  proper  way,  avoiding 
unnecessary  conflicts  and  making  friends  of  enemies.  This  is 
illustrated  in  an  incident  which  occurred  to  him  in  1774  when 
he  was  still  a  young  man  in  the  period  of  Storm  and  Stress. 

While  traveling  with  Lavater  he  sat  at  the  dinner  table  at 
Duisburg  together  with  several  guests  of  the  hotel,  one  of  whom 
was  Rector  Hasenkampf ,  a  pious  but  tactless  man.  While  Goethe 
and  the  rest  were  carrying  on  a  jovial  conversation,  Herr  Hasen- 
kampf interrupted  them  by  asking,  "Are  you  Herr  Goethe?" 
Goethe  nOdded  assent.  ''And  did  you  write  that  notorious  book, 
The  Sorrows  of  Young  Werther'?"  'T  did."  ''Then  I  feel  in 
duty  bound  to  express  my  horror  at  that  infamous  book.  May 
God  change  your  perverted  heart !  For  woe  to  that  man  by 
whom  offense  cometh."  A  painful  silence  followed,  for  all  pres- 
ent expected  the  young  poet's  temper  to  be  aroused,  but  Goethe 
answered  calmly,  "I  understand  that  from  your  point  of  view 
you  must  judge  me  as  you  do,  and  I  respect  the  honesty  of  your 
reproof.  Remember  me  in  your  prayers."  In  this  way  Goethe 
disarmed  the  pious  rector  and  won  over  every  heart.  The  con- 
versation continued  merrily,  even  the  rector  taking  part  in  it. 

Goethe  could  sympathize  with  others  because  he  had  expe- 


148 


GOETHE. 


rienced  in  his  own  life  much  of  the  fate  common  to  all  men. 
Thus  we  have  a  letter  from  him  to  Karl  Friedrich  Zelter,  a 
musician  of  Berlin  with  whom  he  carried  on  a  long  correspon- 


KARL  FRIEDRICH   ZELTER. 

dence,  and  to  whom  he  looked  up  as  his  musical  adviser.  Zelter's 
son  had  committed  suicide,  and  Goethe  wrote  to  him  in  these 
words:  ''About  the  deed  or  misdeed  itself,  I  know  of  nothing 


Goethe's  personality.  149 

to  say.  Wlien  the  tacdiiini  vitae  attacks  a  man  it  can  only  be 
regretted,  not  censured.  That  the  symptoms  of  this  wonderful 
disease,  as  natural  as  it  is  unnatural,  once  took  possession  of  my 
inmost  being  also,  'Werther'  leaves  no  one  in  doubt.  I  know 
right  well  what  exertion  and  decisions  it  cost  me  at  that  time 
to  escape  the  waves  of  death,  just  as  I  have  also  with  great 
trouble  rescued  myself  from  many  a  later  shipwreck,  and  re- 
covered onlv  bv  the  utmost  effort." 


Goethe's  father  was  a  patron  of  painters,  and  so  the  love  of 
art  was  naturally  instilled  into  the  poet  from  his  earliest  child- 
hood. We  ha^'e  many  sketches  by  the  young  Goethe  which  be- 
tray considerable  talent,  and  even  though  he  ne\'er  became  a  real 
artist  he  did  not  cease  to  exercise  his  eye  in  seeing  beauty  and 
his  hand  in  reproducing  on  paper  the  impression  received.  He 
never  traveled  without  taking  paper  and  sketch-book  with  him, 
and  we  have  innumerable  drawings  from  his  hand  which,  though 
by  no  means  perfect,  possess  some  interest  even  for  great  artists. 

In  one  drawing  the  young  poet  has  sketched  himself,  and 
we  notice  his  intention  to  display  the  characteristic  interests  of 
his  life.  He  himself  is  seated  at  a  table  writing,  and  on  the  wall 
in  the  background  hang  his  hat  and  coat  together  with  his  sword, 
and  probably  a  guitar.  At  the  left  upper  corner  of  the  window 
is  his  sketch  of  his  sister.  Cornelia.  Behind  his  chair  stands  an 
easel  with  an  unfinished  landscape  upon  it.  Tradition  does  not 
betray  the  contents  of  the  bottle  on  the  table  behind  him.  In  spite 
of  some  technical  mistakes,  the  conception  of  the  sketch  is  ad- 
mirable and  shows  both  thought  and  taste.  How  much  Goethe 
trained  himself  in  artistic  observation  appears  in  the  following 
sentence  in  ''Truth  and  Fiction" :  'T  saw  no  old  castle,  no  old 
building",  which  I  did  not  reproduce  as  closely  as  possible." 

Goethe  collected  all  the  sketches  he  made  in  his  early  youth 
in  a  portfolio  which  he  called  Juvenilia.  The  Gocthe-Gesell- 
scJiaft  has  published  the  most  characteristic  of  these  drawings, 
and  we  here  reproduce  some  of  them.  Most  of  them  are  artistic 
in  conception  and  drawn  with  a  firm  yet  delicate  hand.  Take 
for  instance  the  watch-tower  of  Sachsenhausen  and  the  church 


150 


GOETHE. 


THE  YOUNG  POET,  DRAWN  BY  HIMSELF. 
From  the  portfolio  Juvenilia. 


Goethe's  personality.  151 

of  St.  Leonhard,  and  consider  that  they  were  made  by  a  boy  in 
his  1 5th  year  who  had  no  special  artistic  education. 

As  an  instance  of  the  happy  disposition  of  Goethe  we  will 


'^■at'^f.'M^e.-fiif^-rir 


♦ 


t\ 


.:-,iv- 


<   ) 


/        i--.    i-^^ 


THE  WATCH  TOWER  OF  SACHSENHAUSEN  ON  THE  MAIN, 

OPPOSITE  FRANKFORT. 

Drawing  by  Goethe  contained  in  the  portfolio  Juvenilia. 

here  recapitulate  an  anecdote  of  his  younger  years  as  told  by 
Johann  Daniel  Falk.^  It  dates  from  June,  1777,  when  he  had 
just  settled  in  Weimar. 

^  Goethe  aus  ndherem  personlichem   Uingang  dargcstellt.     Leipsic,   1832, 
p.  139. 


152 


GOETHE. 


The  narrative  rests  on  the  authority  of  Johann  Ludwig  Gleim, 
one  of  the  most  popular  poets  of  Germany  before  Goethe.   Gleim 


was  born  April  2,  1719,  and  died  at  Halberstadt,  February  18, 
1803.     He  is  best  known  for  his  ''Prussian  War  Songs  of  a 


GOETHE  S   PERSONALITY. 


153 


Grenadier,"  and  his  are  the  thrilHng  dithyrambs  in  honor  of 
Prussia's  great  king,  beginning  "Fredericus  Rex,  unser  Konig 
und  Herr,"  which  liave  been  set  so  grandly  to  music.     He  was  a 


/ 


AN  ETCHING  BY  GOETHE. 

From  the  portfolio  Juvenilia. 

patron  of  the  whole  generation  of  younger  poets;  he  cheered 

them  up  and  encouraged  them  even  with  pecuniary  assistance 

when  required,  and  often  he  helped  those  who  were  unworthy  of 


154  GOETHE. 

his  generosity.  But  this  was  Gleim's  nature,  and  so  he  deserved 
the  title  "Father  Gleim"  which  hterary  Germany  accorded  him. 
Naturally  he  was  anxious  to  meet  the  young  Goethe,  the  new 
star  that  had  so  suddenly  risen  on  the  horizon  of  German  litera- 
ture and  was  strong  enough  not  to  stand  in  need  of  Father 
Gleim's  patronage.     Falk  tells  the  story  thus : 

"Shortly  after  Goethe  had  written  his  'Werther' — the  vener- 
able old  Gleim  once  related  to  me  [Falk] — I  came  to  Weimar 
and  desired  to  make  his  acquaintance.  One  evening  I  was  in- 
vited with  some  others  to  the  Duchess  Amalia's  where  it  was 
said  that  Goethe  too  would  come  later  in  the  evening.  By  way  of 
a  literary  novelty  I  had  brought  with  we  the  latest  Gottinger 
Musenalmanach  from  which  I  read  aloud  one  thing  and  another 
to  the  company.  While  I  was  reading,  a  young  man,  whom  I 
had  hardly  noticed,  with  boots  and  spurs  and  a  short  green 
hunting  coat,  had  mingled  with  the  other  auditors.  He  sat  op- 
posite me  and  listened  very  attentively.  With  the  exception  of 
a  pair  of  wonderfully  sparkling  black  Italian  eyes  there  was 
nothing  about  him  which  particularly  attracted  my  attention. 
Nevertheless  I  was  destined  to  know  him  much  more  intimately. 
During  a  brief  pause  in  which  some  gentlemen  and  ladies  were 
giving  their  judgment  about  this  or  that  piece,  praising  one  and 
criticizing  another,  our  elegant  hunter — for  such  I  had  taken 
him  to  be  at  the  start — rose  from  his  chair,  joined  in  the  con- 
versation and,  bowing  to  me  courteously,  offered  to  take  turns 
with  me  in  reading  aloud  from  time  to  time,  if  I  would  be  pleased 
to  do  so,  that  I  might  not  tire  myself  too  greatly.  I  could  not 
avoid  accepting  this  polite  proposal  and  at  once  handed  him  the 
book.  But  by  Apollo  and  the  Nine  Muses,  not  to  forget  the 
Three  Graces,  to  what  was  I  at  last  compelled  to  listen !  In  the 
beginning  to  be  sure  it  went  quite  passably : 

'Zephyrs  listened, 
Brooks  murmured  and  glistened, 

The  sun 

Spread  light  for  sheer  fun,  etc' 

''Even  the  somewhat  heavier  fare  of  Voss,  Leopold  Stolberg 
and  Biirger  was  delivered  so  well  that  no  one  could  find  fault. 


Goethe's  personality.  155 

But  all  at  once  it  was  as  if  the  devil  of  impertinence  had  seized 
the  reader,  and  I  thought  that  I  beheld  the  wild  huntsman  in- 
carnate before  me.  He  read  poems  which  were  never  in  the 
Almanach,  and  he  took  turns  with  every  conceivable  key  and 
style — hexameter,  iambic,  and  doggerel  just  as  it  happened, 
everything  mixed  up  and  thrown  together  as  if  he  just  poured 
it  out  that  way. 

''What  did  he  not  improvise  in  his  gay  mood  that  evening! 
Sometimes  there  were  such  splendid  thoughts — even  though  as 
carelessly  thrown  off  as  roughly  sketched — that  the  authors  to 
whom  he  ascribed  them  might  well  thank  God  upon  their  knees 
if  such  thoughts  had  occurred  to  them  at  their  desks.  As  soon 
as  every  one  shared  the  joke  general  merriment  spread  through 
the  room.  The  mysterious  reader  worked  in  something  about  all 
who  were  present.  Even  the  patronage  which  I  had  always  con- 
sidered my  duty  towards  young  scholars,  poets  and  artists,  al- 
though he  praised  it  on  the  one  hand,  yet  he  did  not  forget  on  the 
other  hand  to  give  me  a  little  stab  for  making  mistakes  sometimes 
in  the  individuals  to  whom  I  accorded  my  support.  Therefore 
in  a  little  fable  composed  ex  tempore  in  doggerel  verses  he  com- 
pared me,  wittily  enough,  with  a  pious,  and  at  the  same  time  ex- 
ceedingly long-suffering,  turkey  cock  who  sat  very  patiently 
upon  large  numbers  of  eggs  of  his  own  and  other  kinds,  but  to 
whom  it  once  happened  (and  he  did  not  take  it  ill)  that  a  chalk 
Qgg  was  put  under  him  in  place  of  a  real  one. 

''  'That  is  either  Goethe  or  the  devil!'  I  exclaimed  to  Wieland 
who  sat  across  the  table  from  me.  'Both,'  Wieland  replied.  'He 
is  possessed  by  the  devil  again  to-day.  Then  he  is  like  a  spirited 
bronco  that  strikes  out  in  all  directions  so  that  one  would  do 
well  not  to  come  too  near  him.'  " 


Goethe's  own  home  at  Weimar  was  comfortable  and  testified 
to  his  love  of  art,  but  there  was  no  show  of  luxury,  and  his  study 
presented  the  appearance  of  Spartan  simplicity.  In  his  "Con- 
versations with  Eckermann"   (March  23,  1829)   he  said: 

"Magnificent  buildings  and  rooms  are  for  princes  and  kings. 
He  who  lives  in  them  feels  at  ease ;  he  is  contented  and  wishes  for 


156 


GOETHE. 


nothing  else.  It  is  quite  contrary  to  my  nature.  In  a  splendid 
dwelling  such  as  I  had  at  Karlsbad  I  am  lazy  and  indolent.  Nar- 
row quarters,  on  the  other  hand,  like  this  poor  room  where  we 
now  are,  in  somewhat  disorderly  order,  a  little  Bohemian,  are 
the  right  things  for  me.  They  permit  my  nature  entire  freedom 
to  be  active  and  to  make  something  of  myself." 

Two  days  later  he  touched  on  the  same  subject: 
''You  see  no  sofa  in  my  room ;  I  always  sit  in  my  old  wooden 
chair  and  only  in  the  last  few  months  I  have  arranged  a  sort  of 


GOETHE'S  STUDY. 
Drawn  by  O.  Schultz  after  a  photograph  by  L.  Held. 

rest  for  my  head.  Surroundings  of  comfortable,  tasteful  furni- 
ture dull  my  thought  and  reduce  me  to  a  passive  condition." 

While  Goethe's  study  was  simple  and  serviceable  his  home 
was  large  and  comfortable  and  did  not  lack  a  display  of  art. 
One  of  his  friends,  the  naturalist-philosopher  Karl  Gustav  Cams 
of  Dresden,  describes  Goethe's  house  at  Weimar  thus : 

''Immediately  upon  entrance  into  the  modestly  large  house, 
built  in  a  simple  antique  style,  the  inclinations  of  the  owner  were 


GOETHE  S   PERSONALITY. 


157 


clearly  indicated  by  the  broad  easy  stairway  as  well  as  the  decora- 
tion of  the  banisters  with  the  hound  of  Diana  and  the  young 
fawn  of  Belvidere.  Farther  up  a  group  of  Castor  and  Pollux 
agreeably  surprised  the  eye,  and  on  the  main  floor  the  guest  was 


greeted  by  a  hospitable  Salve  in  the  hall.  This  room  itself  was 
richly  decorated  with  busts  and  engravings,  and  towards  the 
back  of  the  house  opened  through  another  hall  of  statuary  upon 
the  gaily  entwined  balcony  and  a  stairway  leading  into  the  gar- 


158 


GOETHE. 


den.  Conducted  into  another  room  the  guest  found  himself 
surrounded  anew  with  works  of  art  and  antiquities.  Beautifully 
burnished  vessels  of  chalcedony  stood  around  on  marble  tables; 
above  the  sofa  green  hangings  half  concealed  a  large  copy  of 
the  old  mural  painting  known  by  the  name  of  'the  Aldobrand 
Wedding'  f  while  the  selection  of  pieces  of  art  kept  under  glass 
and  in  frames,  and  mostly  representing  objects  of  ancient  his- 
tory, deserved  the  closest  attention." 

This  house  was  a  gift  from  Duke  Karl. August  in  1792. 
Walther  von  Goethe,  the  poet's  grandson  and  the  last  of  the 
family,  bequeathed  it  to  the  state  of  Saxe-Weimar  at  his  death, 


April  15,  1885,  and  it  is  now  the  seat  of  the  Goethe  National 
Museum.  In  1827  Otto  Wagner  made  a  drawing  of  it  under 
which  Goethe  wrote  two  couplets  which  may  be  translated  freely 
thus : 

Why  stand  they  there  outside? 
The  doors  are  open  wide. 

If  they'll  come  in  and  see 
Right  welcome  they  will  be. 


Goethe  loved  traveling.  He  journeyed  along  the  Rhine, 
through  Switzerland  and  Italy,  and  frequently  visited  Karlsbad 

^The  Aldobrand  Wedding  is  a  picture  dating  presumably  from  the  age 
of  Augustus,  which  has  been  discovered  (1606)  near  the  Church  of  St.  Maria 
Maggiore  at  Rome,  on  the  grounds  which  formerly  belonged  to  Maecenas.  It 
represents  the  preparation  for  a  wedding,  consisting  of  three  groups.  It  was 
named  after  Cardinal  Aldobrandini,  its  first  owner,  and  is  now  kept  in  the 
Vatican  library. 


Goethe's  personality.  159 

and  Teplitz;  but  he  was  always  glad  to  return  to  his  home  in 
Weimar,  and  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Christiana  Vulpius,  his  faith- 
ful consort,  he  wrote : 

From  east  to  west, 
At  home  is  best. 

[Von  Osten  nach  Westen — 
Zu  Hause  am  besten.] 

He  always  dressed  as  occasion  demanded.  At  court  or  when 
receiving  guests  he  would  appear  in  a  somber  black  court  dress 
with  his  decoration  on  his  breast,  but  he  did  not  hesitate  to  be 
seen  by  his  intimate  friends  on  hot  days  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  or 
in  his  comfortable  woolen  gown  in  winter. 

Goethe  enjoyed  gardening,  and  his  philosophical  as  well  as 

scientific  interest  in  plant  life  is  sufficiently  proved  by  his  poem 

on  the  "Metamorphosis  of  Plants."     He  stayed  frequently  in  his 

little  gfarden  house  outside  the  citv  and  loved  to  meet  his  friends 

there. 

*       *       * 

A  humorous  incident  is  told  by  Goethe  of  Gottsched,^  who 
was  considered  a  kind  of  dictator  of  German  literature.  While 
Goethe  was  a  student  at  Leipsic  Gottsched  still  basked  in  the 
glory  of  his  fame  though  he  had  long  since  passed  the  zenith 
of  his  significance.  He  was  a  pompous  man  of  the  old  style 
belonging  to  the  period  of  the  full-bottomed  wig,  and  Goethe 
criticised  him  as  an  author  with  impartiality  in  the  second  book 
of  his  ''Truth  and  Fiction."  When  Schlosser  visited  Leipsic 
Goethe  called  on  Gottsched  in  company  with  his  future  brother- 
in-law,  and  gives  an  account  of  this  interview.  We  quote  again 
from  Oxenford's  translation  of  ''Truth  and  Fiction" : 

"I  cannot  pass  over  the  visit  we  paid  Gottsched,  as  it  exem- 
plifies the  character  and  manners  of  that  man.  He  lived  very 
respectably  in  the  first  story  of  the  Golden  Bear,  where  the  elder 
Breitkopf,  on  account  of  the  great  advantage  which  Gottsched's 
writings,  translations,  and  other  aids  had  brought  to  the  trade, 
had  promised  him  a  lodging  for  life. 

'  Gottsched  was  born  February  2,  1700.  at  Juditten  in  Eastern  Prussia, 
and  died  September  12,  1766,  at  Leipsic,  where  he  had  Hved  since  1724.  In 
1730  he  became  professor  of  poetrj^,  and  in  1734  professor  of  logic  and  meta- 
physics. 


160 


GOETHE. 


"We  were  announced.  The  servant  led  us  into  a  large  cham- 
ber, saying  his  master  would  come  immediately.  Now,  whether 
we  misunderstood  a  gesture  he  made,  I  cannot  say ;  at  any  rate, 
we  thought  he  directed  us  into  an  adjoining  room.  We  entered, 
to  witness  a  singular  scene ;  for,  on  the  instant,  Gottsched,  that 
tall,  broad,  gigantic  man,  came  in  at  the  opposite  door  in  a 
morning-gown  of  green  damask  lined  with  red  taffeta;  but  his 
monstrous  head  was  bald  and  uncovered.  This,  however,  was  to 
be  immediately  provided  for.     The  servant  rushed  in  at  a  side- 


GOTTSCHED  REBUKES  HIS  SERVANT. 


door  with  a  full-bottomed  wig  in  his  hand  (the  curls  came  down 
to  the  elbows),  and  handed  the  head-ornament  to  his  master 
with  gestures  of  terror.  Gottsched,  without  manifesting  the  least 
vexation,  raised  the  wig  from  the  servant's  arm  with  his  left 
hand,  and,  while  he  very  dexterously  swung  it  up  on  his  head, 
gave  the  poor  fellow  such  a  box  on  the  ear  with  his  right  paw, 
that  the  latter  went  spinning  out  at  the  door,  as  is  often  seen  in 
comedies;  whereupon  the  respectable  old  grandfather  invited  us 


Goethe's  personality. 


161 


0  Christophok^s  Gottschedifs;'.^  _ 

fill, '„      sodetatLS   sac7UunTuii  3e7^cJT7iaiizs''J'irrrLbrxarr.^\  ]\ 


JOHANN   CHRISTOPH   GOTTSCHED. 


162 


GOETHE. 


quite  gravely  to  be  seated,  and  kept  itp  a  pretty  long  discourse 


with  good  grace." 


Gellert's  lectures  in  Leipsic  on  the  history  of  literature  were 
very  attractive  to  Goethe,  and  we  cannot  better  describe  the  sig- 
nificance and  character  of  this  interesting  professor  than  in  the 
poet's  own  words : 

''The  reverence  and  love  with  which  Gellert  was  regarded 
by  all  young  people  was  extraordinary.  I  called  on  him  and  was 
kindly  received.     Not  tall  of  stature,  delicate  without  being  lank. 


C.  F.  GELLERT. 


J.  C.  GOTTSCHED. 


— with  gentle  and  rather  pensive  eyes,  a  very  fine  forehead,  a 
nose  aquiline  but  not  too  much  so,  an  aristocratic  mouth,  a  face 
of  an  agreeable  oval — all  made  his  presence  pleasing  and  de- 
sirable. It  cost  some  trouble  to  reach  him.  His  two  famuli  ap- 
peared like  priests  who  guard  a  sanctuary  to  which  access  is  not 
permitted  to  everybody  nor  at  ever}^  time.  Such  a  precaution  was 
very  necessary,  for  he  would  have  sacrificed  his  whole  time  had 
he  been  willing  to  receive  and  satisfy  all  those  who  wished  to 
become  intimate  with  him. 

"Gellert,   in  accordance   vv^ith  his   pious    feelings,   had  com- 


GOETHE  S   PERSONALITY. 


163 


mm  vs  F  uii.cH;ir Ei3  oyi 


From  Raid's  mezzotint  after  the  painting  by  Anton  Graff. 


164 


GOETHE. 


posed  a  system  of  ethics,  which  from  time  to  time  he  pubhcly 
read,  thus  acquitting  himself  in  an  honorable  manner  of  his 
duty  to  mankind.  Gellert's  writings  had  for  a  long  time  been 
the  foundation  of  German  moral  culture,  and  every  one  anxiously 
wished  to  see  that  work  printed ;  but  as  this  was  not  to  be  done 
till  after  the  good  man's  death,  people  thought  themselves  very 
fortunate  to  hear  him  deliver  it  himself  in  his  lifetime.  At  such 
times  the  philosophical  lecture  room  was  crowded ;  and  the 
beautiful  soul,  the  pure  will,  and  the  interest  of  the  noble  man 


GELLERT'S  LECTURE  ROOM. 

in  our  welfare,  his  exhortations,  warnings  and  entreaties,  uttered 
in  a  somewhat  hollow  and  mournful  tone,  made  indeed  an  im- 
pression for  the  moment.  But  this  did  not  last  long,  the  less  so 
as  there  were  many  scoffers  who  contrived  to  make  us  suspicious 
of  this  tender,  and,  as  the}^  thought,  enervating,  manner.  I  re- 
member a  Frenchman  traveling  through  the  town  who  asked 
what  were  the  maxims  and  opinions  of  the  man  who  attracted 
such  an  immense  concourse.  When  we  had  given  him  the  neces- 
sary information,  he  shook  his  head  and  said  smiling,  'Laissez  le 
faire,  il  nous  forme  des  dupes/ 


Goethe's  personality.  165 

*'And  in  the  same  way  good  society  which  does  not  easily 
brook  anything  worthy,  knew  how  to  find  occasion  to  spoil  the 
moral  influence  which  Gellert  might  have  upon  us ...  .  and  so 
pulled  about  the  good  reputation  of  the  excellent  Gellert  that,  in 
order  not  to  be  mistaken  about  him,  we  became  indifferent 
towards  him  and  visited  him  no  more;  yet  we  ahvays  saluted 
him  in  our  best  manner  when  he  came  riding  along  on  his  gentle 
white  horse.  This  horse  the  Elector  of  Saxony  had  sent  him, 
to  oblige  him  to  take  the  exercise  so  necessary  for  his  health, — 
a  distinction  for  which  he  was  not  easily  to  be  forgiven." 

There  are  six  religious  songs  of  Gellert's  for  which  Beethoven 
has  composed  the  music.  In  the  translation  of  H.  Stevens  they 
read  as  follows : 

PRAYER. 

O  Lord,  thy  goodness  reaches  far, 

As  far  the  clouds  are  guided ; 

By  mercy  crowned,  thy  creatures  are 

With  needful  help  provided. 

Lord !  my  defense,  my  tower  and  shield, 

To  me  a  gracious  audience  yield, 

Approve  my  supplication. 

LOVE  THY   NEIGHBOR. 

If  one  shall  say,  T  love  the  Lord,' 
While  yet  his  brother  hating, 
With  mockers  he  shall  reap  reward 
God's  truth  abominating; 
For  God  is  love,  and  washes  me 
With  all  on  loving  terms  to  be. 

DEATH. 

Life  is  ebbing  fast  away. 
Hourly  towards  the  grave  I  hasten; 
Death  may  come  without  delay, 
Let  this  thought  my  spirit  chasten. 
Man  bethink  thee  Death  is  rife. 
One  thing  needful  is  in  life. 

NATURE  PRAISES  GOD. 

The  Heavens  declare  the  Lord's  infinite  glory. 
The  sea  and  earth  sound  forth  his  name, 
And  tell  their  origin's  wonderful  story, 
Mark  w^ell,  O  man,  what  they  proclaim. 


166  ■  GOETHE. 

Who  gave  the  iiiimbeiiess  stars  their  existence, 
Who  calls  the  Sun  from  his  abode, 
He  comes  in  brightness  and  smiles  from  the  distance, 
And  like  a  hero  keeps  his  road. 

POWER  OF  GOD. 

God  is  my  song ! 

In  strength  he  reigns  victorious, 

High  is  his  name, 

And  all  his  works  are  glorious ; 

Earth,  Sea  and  Heaven  to  him  belong. 

PENITENTIAL  HYMN. 
I. 
'Gainst  thee  alone,  God,  have  I  sin  committed, 
And  evil  done  in  thy  dread  sight ; 
Thou  seest  my  guilt  for  which  thy  wrath  is  fitted. 
See,  Lord,  my  woe  and  sore  affright. 

My  piteous  wail,  my  sighs  are  all  before  thee, 
My  tears  of  deep  and  bitter  grief, 

0  God,  my  God,  shall  I  in  vain  implore  Thee? 
How  long  wilt  thou  deny  relief? 

Lord,  do  not  after  my  deserts  reward  me. 
Chastise  me  not !     Show  me  thy  face ; 

1  crave  for  thee !  thy  pardon,  Lord,  accord  me. 
Thou  God  of  patience  and  of  grace. 

II. 

0  grant  me  earl}^  God,  thy  consolation. 
Oh  Father  of  mercy,  God  of  love, 

For  thine  own  name's  sake  grant  my  supplication, 
Thou  lov'st  to  bless  from  Heav'n  above. 

Let  on  thy  path  me  walk ;  let  me  be  steady 

In  my  obedience  to  thy  word. 

To  do  thy  will  I  shall  be  always  ready, 

1  am  thy  servant,  thou  my  Lord. 

Lord,  hasten  thou  to  shelter  and  defend  me ; 

Show  me  thy  path,  point  out  the  goal. 

Thy  helping  hand,  O  Lord,  thy  helping  hand  extend  me 

And  with  thy  comfort  fill  my  soul. 

H^  5{J  ^ 

Goethe  was  a  man  of  the  world.  It  is  true  that  in  his  youth 
he  passed  through  a  period  of  fermentation  in  which,  Titan-Hke, 
he  could  rebel  against  authority  in  any  form,  but  when  he  saw 
more  of  the  world  he  followed  the  behests  of  common  sense  and 
respected  rank  and  power  even  when  due  merely  to  heredity.   He 


GOETHE  S   PERSONALITY. 


167 


was  a  poet  by  nature,  but  in  Weimar  be  bad  become  a  man  of 
affairs  and  a  courtier.  In  tbis  respect  be  was  different  from 
Beetboven  wbo  remained  an  outspoken  democrat  all  bis  life,  at 
least  a  non-respector  of  rank,  preserving  tbis  tendency  even  in 
tbe  presence  of  bis  imperial  friend,  tbe  bberal-minded  Emperor 
Josepb,  wbo  not  only  distinguisbed  bim  frequently  with  marks 
of  personal   friendship,  but  also  bumored  bis  often  rude  inde- 


CARICATURE  OF  GOETHE.         BEETHOVEN  IN  THE  STREETS 
By  Daniel  Maclise  after  a  similar  cari-  OF  VIENNA. 

catLire  by  Thackeray.  Sketch  by  J.  P.  Lyser. 

pendence.     Bettina  von  Arnim  tells  a  story  wbicb  illustrates  tbis 
contrast  between  Goetbe  and  Beetboven. 

One  day  Beetboven  and  Goetbe  were  walking  together,  dur- 
ing their  stay  at  Teplitz,  wdien  they  met  tbe  whole  coterie  of  royal 
personages.  Beetboven  went  so  far  as  to  show  a  certain  dis- 
respect by  passing  through  their  midst  regardless  of  their  rank, 
while  Goetbe  modestlv  doffed  bis  bat  and  made  room  for  them 


168  GOETHE. 

to  pass.  Bettina  tells  us  that  Goethe  was  somewhat  perplexed 
by  the  ''quite  untamed"  personality  of  the  great  composer,  while 
Beethoven  blamed  Goethe  for  his  courtier-like  behavior  and  on 
the  following  day  vented  his  indignation  in  these  words :  "Kings 
and  princes  can  indeed  bestow  titles  and  orders,  but  they  can 
not  make  great  men,  who  therefore  must  be  held  in  respect. 
When  two  come  together  such  as  Goethe  and  I,  then  these  great 
gentlemen  must  observe  what  it  is  that  counts  for  great  with 
such  as  we.  Yesterday  we  met  the  whole  imperial  family  [of 
Austria],  and  Goethe  disengaged  himself  from  my  arm  in  order 
to  stand  aside.  I  pressed  my  hat  down  on  my  head  and  went 
through  the  thickest  of  the  crowd  with  my  arms  hanging  at  my 
sides.  Princes  and  courtiers  drew  up  in  a  double  line,  the  Duke 
of  Weimar  took  off  his  hat  to  me  and  the  Empress  greeted  me 
first.  Much  to  my  amusement  I  saw  the  procession  file  by  Goethe 
who  stood  at  one  side  bowing  with  his  hat  in  his  hand.  I  took 
him  roundly  to  task  for  it  afterwards." 

This  makes  Goethe  appear  in  a  rather  unfavorable  light,  but 
we  must  consider  that  Beethoven  also  went  too  far  in  his  brusque 
manner,  and  he  might  perhaps  on  second  thought  have  granted 
that  even  royolty  ought  to  be  treated  with  gentlemanly  behavior. 

To  complement  this  trait  of  Goethe's  character  we  ought  to 
say  that  while  he  admired  his  own  sovereign,  Karl  August,  and 
while  he  respected  his  rights  even  in  punctilious  formalities,  he 
was  by  no  means  a  pliable  courtier,  but  in  his  official  duties  when- 
ever he  thought  that  his  own  judgment  was  better  than  his  sov- 
ereign's, he  insisted  on  his  point  with  great  tenacity  so  that  the 
Duke  is  reported  to  have  complained  sometimes  of  his  obstinacy. 
Once  while  disagreeing  about  filling  a  chair  at  the  university 
of  Jena,  the  Duke  finally  broke  off  the  conversation  by  saying 
in  a  tone  of  comradeship,  ''Thou  art  an  odd  fellow  and  canst  not 
stand  contradiction." 

*  :k  * 

Though  Goethe  was  upon  the  whole  very  simple  in  his  habits 
of  life  and  in  a  way  frugal,  he  spent  much  money,  partly  for  his 
travels,  partly  for  books  and  art  treasures,  and  also  for  his 
wines.  Further  we  have  good  reason  to  know  that  neither  his 
wife  Christiana  nor  his  daughter-in-law  Ottilie  were  good  house- 


< 


GOETHE  S  PERSONALITY. 


169 


DUKE  KARL  AUGUST  AND  GOETHE. 
After  an  engraving  by  Schwerdgeburth. 


170 


GOETHE. 


keepers.  He  drew  a  very  good  income  from  his  books  and  re- 
ceived many  gifts  from  home.  When  his  mother  died  he  in- 
herited the  fortnne  of  his  parents  which  was  not  inconsiderable. 
Payments  made  to  him  between  1795  and  1832  by  Cotta  alone, 
his  main  publisher,  amounted  to  401,090  thalers ;  and  between 
the  vears  1832  and  1865,  until  the  expiration  of  the  copyright, 
his  heirs  drew  the  additional   amount  of   154,824  thalers.      He 


JOHANN  FRIEDRICH  COTTA,  BARON  COTTENDORF. 

Goethe's  publisher  and  founder  of  Die  Horcn. 

kept  a  faithful  account  of  his  expenses,  and  yet  his  pecuniary 
affairs  were  never  prosperous,  and-  he  f  rec[uently  complained  of 


being  short  of  funds. 


Goethe  loved  jovial  company  and  wrote  several  jolly  drinking 
songs.      In   his  younger  years  especially  he  drank  wine   rather 


Goethe's  personality.  171 

freely,,  but  when  he  grew  older  he  Ijtecaiiie  suspicious  of  all  stimu- 
lants. He  drank  no  tea  and  very  little  cotiee,  deeming"  both  to 
be  poisonous,  and  also  abstained  fr()m  the  use  of  tobacco.  He 
took  beer  or  strong  liquors  only  as  an  exception,  but  being  a 
Rhinelander  it  was  difficult  for  him  to  give  ui)  wine  even  when 
he  began  to  doubt  its  wholesomeness.  Once  he  wrote  (in  1780)  : 
"I  drink  almost  no  wine  at  all  and  gain  daily  in  insight  and 
ability  to  lead  an  active  life."  In  1786  he  wrote  from  Italy:  "I 
am  very  moderate.  The  red  wine  of  this  country  I  cannot  stand, 
and  like  St.  Louis  I  drink  it  mixed  with  much  water.''  But  these 
moods  did  not  make  him  a  total  abstainer.  He  continued  to 
drink  a  glass  of  Madeira  for  his  forenoon  lunch  and  a  bottle  of 
Wtirzburg  wine  for  mid-day  dinner,  while  in  the  evening  he  en- 
joyed either  a  punch  or  a  glass  of  champagne.  It  is  remarkable 
that  he  could  stand  so  much,  but  it  is  noteworthy  that  he  recom- 
mends moderation  to  his  son  while  a  student  at  the  university  of 
Heidelberg.  In  a  fatherly  letter  he  writes  in  1808:  "We  are 
living  on  in  the  same  old  way,  cjuietly  and  busily,  especially,  too, 
as  far  as  wdne  is  concerned,  with  regard  to  which  it  pleases  me 
to  learn  from  your  letter  that  you  bew^are  of  drinking  which  has 
become  so  very  much  the  fashion  although  it  militates  more  than 
one  thinks  against  a  prudent,  cheerful  and  active  life." 


An  anecdote  from  the  poet's  sojourn  in  Karlsbad  is  told  in 
Goethe's  own  words  by  Professor  Luden  of  Jena  as  follows : 

''Walking  up  and  down  as  was  my  habit,  I  repeatedly  came 
across  an  old  man  of  perhaps  78  or  80  years  of  age,  who  leaning 
on  his  gold-headed  cane  passed  along  the  same  street  coming  and 
going.  I  learned  that  he  was  a  very  deserving  retired  general 
of  a  prominent  old  family.  I  noticed  several  times  that  the  old 
man  looked  at  me  sharply,  even  standing  still  and  looking  back 
at  me  after  I  had  passed.  I  paid  no  special  attention  to  this  at 
the  time  because  I  had  had  similar  experiences  before.  Once, 
however,  I  started  to  take  a  stroll  on  the  side  path  in  order  to 
look  at  something  or  other  more  particularly.  The  old  man 
came  up  to  me  in  a  friendly  manner,  slightly  lifted  his  hat,  to 
which  of  course  I  suitably  responded,  and  addressed  me  in  the 


172 


GOETHE. 


GOETHE  (BY  RUMPF). 


Goethe's  personality.  173 

following  fashion.  'Your  name  is  Mr.  Goethe,  is  it  not?' — Quite 
right.  —  'From  Weimar?'  —  Right  again.  —  'You  have  written 
books,  haven't  you?' — Oh  yes. — 'And  made  verses?' — That  too. 
— 'They  are  said  to  be  fine.' — Hm! — 'Have  you  written  much?' 
— Some  might  think  so. — Ts  it  hard  to  write  verses?' — So  so. — 
'It  depends  a  good  deal  on  one's  mood  I  fancy?  Whether  a 
person  has  eaten  and  drunk  well,  doesn't  it?' — It  amounts  to 
about  that. — 'Now  see!  You  ought  not  to  waste  your  time  in 
Weimar,  but  in  my  opinion  you  should  come  to  Vienna.' — I've 
often  thought  of  it. — 'Now  see!  It's  fine  in  Vienna,  they  have 
good  things  to  eat  and  drink!' — Hm! — 'And  they  make  a  lot  of 
such  people  who  can  write  verses.' — Hm! — 'Yes  indeed,  such 
people — if  you  are  a  good  fellow,  you  see,  and  know  how  to  live 
— are  received  in  the  first  and  finest  houses.' — Hm! — 'Do  come 
and  try !  Let  me  know  when  you  come,  for  I  have  a  wide 
acquaintance,  relatives  and  influence.  Just  write :  Goethe  from 
Weimar,  met  at  Karlsbad.  The  last  is  necessary  to  remind  me 
because  I  have  so  much  on  my  mind.' — I'll  not  fail  to. — 'But  tell 
me  though,  what  have  you  written?' — All  sorts  of  things  from 
Adam  to  Napoleon,  from  Ararat  to  Blocksberg,  from  the  cedar 
to  the  bramble  bush. — 'They  say  it  is  widely  known.' — Hm!  Un- 
fortunately.— 'Too  bad  that  I  have  never  read  anything  of  yours, 
and  never  heard  of  you  before !  Have  new  revised  editions  of 
your  writings  appeared  ?' — Oh  yes,  probably. — 'And  perhaps  more 
will  appear  ?' — Let  us  hope  so. — 'Well,  but  see !  then  I  will  not 
buy  your  works.  I  only  l3uy  final  editions.  Otherwise  one  al- 
ways has  the  annoyance  of  owning  a  poor  book  or  else  one  must 
buy  the  same  book  a  second  time.  Therefore  in  order  to  be 
secure  I  always  wait  until  the  author  is  dead  before  I  buy  his 
books.  It  is  a  principle  with  me,  and  I  can  not  depart  from  this 
principle  even  in  your  case.' — Hm!" 


Another  encounter  of  a  humorous  kind  is  reported  of  a  cap- 
tain of  hussars,  Franz  von  Schwanenfeld,  who  happened  to  cross 
Goethe's  path  in  Teplitz  in  1833.  The  gallant  officer  had  reached 
the  place  at  the  end  of  June  and  could  not  get  a  room  except  in 
the  basement  of  a  garden  house  situated  on  the  promenades.   One 


174  GOETHE. 

morning  the  light  of  his  room  was  darkened  by  the  figure  of  a 
fine  old  gentleman  who  sat  on  the  bench  just  outside  his  window 
and  drank  a  mug  of  water,  which  the  servant  brought  him.  This 
was  repeated  so  frequently  that  our  hussar  was  annoyed  and  yet 
he  was  attracted  by  the  fine  features  of  the  stranger.  He  opened 
his  window  and  called  out,  "Good  morning!"  but  received  no 
reply  except  a  glance  of  rebuke.  Undaunted  the  captain  con- 
tinued, "Are  you  a  hypochondriac?"  No  answer.  The  question 
was  repeated  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  Finally  the  old  gentleman 
spoke:  ''Strange!"  said  he.  'Tndeed  it  is  strange,"  replied  the 
captain,  "here  you  are  sick  and  sit  out  in  the  cold  fog  drinking 
your  water  alone  in  solitude  and  silence.  I  would  rather  drink 
ink  in  company  with  others  and  would  be  cured  the  sooner.  Do 
you  know,  I  would  be  disposed  to  come  to  blows  with  you." 
The  other's  eyes  opened  w^ide  in  amazement,  and  the  captain  con- 
tinued:  ''No  danger!     I  like  your  hero  face  too  much!" 

The  stranger  was  pleased  with  the  aggressive  soldier  who 
clothed  his  offensive  language  so  adroitly  in  flattery.  They  en- 
tered into  conversation  and  soon  were  walking  together  arm  in 
arm.  They  talked  about  Schiller  and  Goethe,  about  the  Duke  of 
Weimar  and  the  war,  and  the  captain  said  he  was  very  fond  of 
"Tasso"  but  disliked  "Werther."  The  stranger  called  the  hussar 
his  doctor  because  he  had  cured  him  of  his  attack  of  hypochon- 
dria, and  on  the  following  day  they  met  again,  but  this  time  the 
patient  was  in  company  with  another  gentleman  whom  the  doctor 
took  to  be  a  forester  or  the  tenant  of  some  large  estate,  and  he  tried 
to  instill  into  both  a  more  joyous  conception  of  life.  After  a  few 
days  Herr  von  Schwanenfeld  was  informed  that  his  acquaintance 
was  Goethe,  and  the  latter's  companion  whom  he  had  addressed 
so  unceremoniously,  the  Duke  Karl  August. 


A  curious  incident  is  reported  by  Dr.  G.  Parthey,  of  a  Berlin 
woman  who  may  be  characterized  as  a  German  Mrs.  Malaprop. 
He  quotes  her  as  giving  the  following  account  of  her  meeting 
with  the  famous  poet. 

"I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  visit  the  great  Goethe  just  once, 
and  so  one  day  when  I  rode  through  Weimar  I  went  to  his  gar- 


Goethe's  personality.  175 

den  and  gave  the  gardener  one  dollar  so  that  he  would  hide  me 
in  an  arbor  and  give  me  the  wink  when  Goethe  came  along.  Now 
when  he  came  down  the  path  and  the  gardener  beckoned  to  me,  I 
stepped  out  and  said :  'Worshipful  sir !'  Then  he  stood  still,  put 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  looked  at  me  and  asked,  'Do  you  know 
me?'  I  answered,  'Great  man,  who  is  there  that  does  not  know 
vou  ?'  and  beo-an  to  recite. 


-fe' 


Firmly  bound,  the  mold  of  clay 
In  its  dungeon  walls  doth  stand.* 

At  that  he  made  a  bow,  turned  around  and  went  on.     So  I  had 
my  way  and  had  seen  the  great  Goethe." 

^        ^        ^ 

It  was  characteristic  of  Goethe  that  he  was  opposed  to  all 
gossip,  and  whenever  slander  was  reported  to  him  he  resented  it 
strongly.  Once  he  said  to  Chancellor  von  Miiller,  "Through  such 
malevolent  and  indiscreet  inventions  one  makes  enemies  and  em- 
bitters one's  own  existence.  I  would  rather  hang  myself  than  be 
constantly  negative,  constantly  in  the  opposition,  constantly  ready 
to  shoot  at  the  faults  and  shortcomings  of  my  fellows  and  neigh- 
bors. One  must  be  very  young  and  frivolous  to  tolerate  such 
things."  On  another  occasion  he  replied  very  sharply  to  a  visitor 
who  related  some  scandal,  ''Keep  the  sweepings  of  your  dirt  at 
home,  and  do  not  bring  it  into  my  house." 

Once  while  passing  through  a  park  at  Weimar  his  attention 
was  called  to  a  couple  of  lovers  who  thought  themselves  unob- 
served. They  were  known  in  Weimar,  and  when  asked  whether 
he  had  seen  them  Goethe  answered,  "  I  did,  but  I  don't  believe 
it." 

;!;  Jjc  ;|c 

Goethe  was  lenient  in  judging  harmless  joys  and  insisted 
especially  upon  the  protection  of  the  lil^erties  of  the  children. 
He  used  to  complain  that  the  police  disturbed  the  people  in  some 
of  their  innocent  enjoyments.  Eckermann  reports  the  following- 
remarks  under  the  date  of  March  12,  1828: 

"I  only  need  look  out  of  the  window  in  our  dear  Weimar  to 
*  This  is  the  beginning  of  Schiller's  best  known  poem  "The  Bell." 


176  GOETHE. 

become  aware  of  how  things  are  with  us.  When  recently  the 
snow  lay  on  the  ground  and  my  neighbor's  children  wished  to 
try  their  little  sleds  in  the  street,  a  police  officer  was  immediately 
on  the  spot,  and  I  saw  the  poor  little  things  run  away  as  fast 
as  they  could.  Now  when  spring  sunshine  entices  them  out  of 
the  houses  and  they  want  to  play  some  little  game  with  their 
companions  in  front  of  their  doors,  I  see  that  they  are  always 
uneasy  as  if  they  were  not  sure  and  as  if  they  feared  the  arrival 
of  some  police  tyrant.  No  boy  can  crack  a  whip  or  sing  or  call 
out  but  the  police  is  on  hand  at  once  to  forbid  him.  In  our  town 
everything  tends  toward  making  young  people  tame  before  their 
time  and  drive  out  of  them  all  naturalness,  all  originality,  and 
wildness,  so  that  in  the  end  there  is  nothing  left  but  the  Phil- 
istine." 

When  the  ancient  custom  of  burning  up  old  brooms  on  St. 
John's  day  was  prohibited  by  a  regulation  of  the  Weimar  police, 
Goethe  wrote  down  the  following  lines  to  be  circulated  as  a 
propaganda  against  this  interference  with  boyish  merry-making: 

St.  John's  day  fires  be  not  forbid, 

Nor  hindered  harmless  joys; 
For  of  old  brooms  we  must  be  rid, 

And  boys  will  still  be  boys. 

[Johannisfeuer  sei  unverwehrt, 

Die.  Frende  nie  verloren ! 
Besen  werden  immer  stumpf  gekehrt, 
Und  Jnngens  immer  geboren.] 


THE  RELIGION  OF  GOETHE. 

GOETHE'S  faith  in  God  received  a  severe  shock  while  he 
was  a  small  child  from  the  news  of  the  earthquake  at  Lis- 
bon. From  his  religious  instruction  the  boy  had  learned  to  look 
upon  God  as  all-good,  all-wise  and  all-powerful,  and  such  a 
dreadful  accident  seemed  to  be  incompatible  with  his  conception 
of  deity.  In  his  autobiography  the  poet  describes  his  own  state 
of  mind  as  follows: 

"An  extraordinary  event  deeply  disturbed  the  boy's  peace  of 
mind  for  the  first  time.  On  the  1st  of  November,  1755,  the  earth- 
quake at  Lisbon  took  place,  and  spread  a  prodigious  alarm  over 
the  world,  long  accustomed  to  peace  and  quiet.  A  great  and 
magnificent  capital  which  was  at  the  same  time  a  trading  and 
mercantile  city,  was  smitten  without  warning  by  a  terrible  calam- 
ity. The  earth  trembled  and  tottered;  the  sea  foamed;  ships 
dashed  against  one  another ;  houses  fell  down,  and  churches  and 
towers  on  top  of  them ;  the  royal  palace  was  partly  swallowed  by 
the  waters  ;  the  bursting  land  seemed  to  vomit  flames ;  everywhere 
among  the  ruins  were  seen  smoke  and  fire.  Sixty  thousand  per- 
sons, a  moment  before  in  ease  and  comfort,  perished  together; 
and  he  was  most  fortunate  who  was  no  longer  capable  of  a 
thought  or  feeling  about  the  disaster.  The  flames  raged  on ;  and 
with  them  raged  a  troop  of  desperadoes,  before  concealed,  or  set 
at  large  by  the  event.  The  wretched  survivors  were  exposed  to 
pillage,  massacre  and  every  outrage ;  and  thus  on  all  sides  nature 
asserted  her  boundless  caprice. 

''Intimations  of  this  event  had  spread  over  wide  regions  more 
quickly  than  the  authentic  reports ;  slight  shocks  had  been  felt  in 


178  GOETHE. 

many  places;  in  many  springs,  ])articnlai-ly  those  of  a  mineral 
nature,  an  unusual  receding  of  the  waters  had  l^een  remarked; 
and  such  phenomena  added  to  the  effect  of  the  accounts  them- 
selves, which  were  rapidl}'  circulated,  at  first  in  general  terms, 
but  finally  with  dreadful  definiteness.  Hereupon  the  religiously 
inclined  were  not  wanting  in  reflections,  neither  were  the  philo- 
sophical in  grounds  for  consolation,  nor  the  clergy  in  warnings. 
So  complicated  an  event  arrested  the  attention  of  the  world  for 
a  long  time ;  and,  as  additional  and  more  detailed  accounts  of  the 
extensive  effects  of  this  explosion  came  from  every  quarter,  those 
who  had  already  been  aroused  by  the  misfortunes  of  strangers 
now  began  to  be  more  and  more  anxious  for  themselves  and  their 
friends.  Perhaps_the  demon  of  horror  had  never  so  speedily  and 
power  fully -diffused  his  terrors~oveFthe  eartli.  ~       "' 

'The  boy,  who  was  compelled  to  endure  frequent  repetitions 
of  the  whole  story,  was  not  a  little  staggered. .  God,  the  Creator 
and  Preserver  of  heaven  and  earth,  whom  the  explanation  of  the 
first  article  of  the  creed  declared  so  wise  and  benignant,  in  aban- 
doning both  the  just  and  the  unjust  to  the  same  destruction,  had 
not  manifestecMiiniself  by  any  means  in  a  fatlierl^;^  character, 
nr^aln  the  young  mind  strove  to  resist  these  impressions.  This 
was  the  more  impossible  since  the  wise  and  scripture-learned 
could  not  themselves  agree  as  to  the  light  in  which  such  a  phe- 
nomenon should  43e  regarded. 

'*The  next  summer  gave  a  closer  opportunity  of  knowing  di- 
rectly that  angry  God  of  whom  tlie  Old  Testament  records  so 
much.  A  sudden  hail-storm,  accompanied  by  thunder  and  light- 
ning, violently  broke  the  new  panes  at  the  back  of  our  house 
which  looked  toward  the  west,  damaged  the  new  furniture,  de- 
stroyed some  treasured  books  and  other  valuable  things,  and  was 
the  more  terrible  to  the  children,  as  the  whole  household,  quite 
beside  themselves,  dragged  us  little  folks  with  them  into  a  dark 
passage,  where,  on  their  knees,  W'ith  frightful  groans  and  cries, 
they  thought  to  conciliate  the  wrathful  deity.  Meanwhile,  my 
father,  who  was  the  only  one  self-possessed,  forced  open  and 
unhinged  the  window- frames,  by  which  we  saved  much  glass, 
but  made  a  broader  inlet  for  the  rain  which  followed  the  hail ;  so 
that  after  we  were  finally  quieted  we  found  ourselves  completely 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  179 

surrounded  by  floods  and  streams  of  water,  in  the  halls  and  on 
the  stairs." 


The  poetic  inclination  of  Goethe  appeared  also  in  his  re- 
ligious yearnings,  and  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  even  as  a  boy 
he  presents  an  exact  parallel  to  the  religion  of  ancient  Per- 
sia where  God  was  worshiped  under  the  symbol  of  light,  and 
the  sun  was  greeted  as  the  visible  representative  of  deity  in  the 
world.  We  let  Goethe  show  the  condition  of  his  mind  in  his 
own  words : 

'Tt  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  among  our  other  lessons 
we  children  had  a  continued  and  progressive  instruction  in  re- 
ligion. But  the  ecclesiastical  Protestantism  imparted  to  us  was, 
properly  speaking,  nothing  but  a  kind  of  dry  morality.  Ingenious 
exposition  was  not  thought  of,  and  the  doctrine  appealed  neither 
to  the  understanding  nor  to  the  heart.  For  that  reason  there  were 
various  secessions  from  the  Established  Church.  Separatists, 
Pietists,  Moravians  (Hcrnihufcr) ,  the  Quiet-in-the-Land,  and 
others  differently  named  and  characterized,  sprang  up,  all  of 
whom  were  animated  by  the  same  purpose  of  approaching  the 
deity,  especially  through  Christ,  more  closely  than  seemed  to 
them  possible  under  the  forms  of  the  established  religion. 

"The  boy  heard  these  opinions  and  sentiments  constantly 
spoken  of,  for  the  clergy  as  well  as  the  laity  divided  themselves 
into  pro  and  con.  Those  who  dissented  more  or  less  widely 
formed  the  minority ;  but  their  modes  of  thinking  proved  enticing 
on  account  of  their  originality,  heartiness,  perseverance,  and  in- 
dependence. All  sorts  of  stories  were  told  of  their  virtues  and 
of  the  way  in  which  these  were  manifested.  The  reply  of  a  pious 
tinker  was  circulated,  who  when  one  of  his  craft  attempted  to 
shame  him  bv  askino",  'WHio  then  is  vour  confessor?'  answered 


'C3' 


with  great  cheerfulness  and  confidence  in  the  goodness  of  his 
cause,  T  have  a  very  famous  one, — none  less  than  the  confessor 
of  King  David.' 

"Things  of  this  sort  naturally  made  an  impression  on  the 
boy,  and  led  him  into  similar  states  of  mind.  In  fact,  he  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  might  approach  directly  the  great  God 


180  GOETHE. 

of  nature,  the  Creator  and  Preserver  of  heaven  and  earth,  whose 
earher  manifestations  of  wrath  had  long  been  forgotten  in  the 
beauty  of  the  world  and  the  manifold  blessings  in  which  we  par- 
ticipate while  upon  it.  The  way  he  took  to  accomplish  this  was 
very  curious. 

''The  boy  had  chiefly  kept  to  the  first  article  of  belief.  The 
God  who  stands  in  immediate  connection  with  nature,  and  owns 
and  loves  it  as  his  work,  seemed  to  him  the  proper  God  who 
might  be  brought  into  closer  relationship  with  man  as  with 
everything  else,  and  who  would  take  care  of  him,  as  of  the  mo- 
tion of  the  stars,  the  days  and  the  seasons,  and  animals  and  plants. 
There  were  texts  of  the  Gospels  which  explicitly  stated  this.  The 
boy  would  ascribe  no  form  to  this  Being:  he  therefore  sought 
him  in  his  works,  and  would  fain  build  him  an  altar  in  the  good 
Old  Testament  fashion.  Natural  productions  were  set  out  to 
represent  the  world,  and  over  these  a  flame  was  to  burn,  signi- 
fying the  aspirations  of  man's  heart  towards  his  Maker.  He 
brought  the  best  ores  and  other  specimens  out  of  his  natural 
history  collection  which  had  been  increased  as  chance  directed. 
But  the  next  difficulty  was  how  to  arrange  and  build  them  up. 
His  father  possessed  a  beautiful  red-lacquered  music-stand,  or- 
namented with  gilt  flowers,  in  the  form  of  a  four-sided  pyramid, 
with  different  elevations,  which  had  been  found  convenient  for 
quartets  but  lately  was  not  much  in  use.  The  boy  took  possession 
of  this,  and  set  up  his  natural  specimens  one  above  the  other  in 
steps;  so  that  it  all  looked  quite  pretty  and  at  the  same  time  suffi- 
ciently significant. 

''His  first  worship  of  God  was  to  be  celebrated  at  early 
sunrise,  but  the  young  priest  had  not  yet  settled  on  how  to  pro- 
duce a  flame  which  should  at  the  same  time  emit  an  agreeable 
odor.  At  last  it  occurred  to  him  to  combine  the  two,  as  he  pos- 
sessed a  few  fumigating  pastils,  which  diffused  a.  pleasant  frag- 
rance with  a  glimmer,  if  not  with  a  flame.  Nay,  this  soft  burn- 
ing and  exhalation  seemed  a  better  representation  of  what  passes 
in  the  heart,  than  an  open  flame.  The  sun  had  risen  long  before, 
but  the  neighboring  houses  concealed  the  east.  At  last  it  appeared 
above  the  roofs.  The  boy  at  once  took  up  a  burning-glass  and 
applied  it  to  the  pastils,  which  stood  on  the  summit  in  a  fine 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


181 


porcelain  saucer.  Everything  succeeded  as  desired,  and  the  ser- 
vice of  de\-otion  was  complete.  The  altar  remained  as  a  pecuhar 
ornament  of  the  room  .vhicli  liad  been  assigned  him  in  the  new 
house.     E^•ery  one  regarded  it  only  as  a  well-arranged  collec- 


THE  YOUTHFUL  PRIEST. 

tion  of  natural  curios.  The  boy  knew  better  but  concealed  his 
knowledge.  He  longed  for  a  repetition  of  the  solemnity  But 
unfortunately,  just  when  the  most  opportune  sun  arose,  the  por- 
celain cup  was  not  at  hand :  he  placed  the  pastils  on  the  upper 


182  GOETHE. 

surface  of  the  stand  with  no  protection ;  they  were  kindled ;  and 
so  great  was  the  devotion  of  the  priest,  that  he  did  not  observe 
until  it  was  too  late  the  mischief  his  sacrifice  was  doing.  The 
pastils  had  l)urned  mercilessly  into  the  red  lacquer  and  beauti- 
ful gold  flowers,  and  had  vanished  as  if  some  evil  spirits  had 
left  their  black,  ineffaceable  footprints.  This  threw^  the  young 
priest  into  the  most  extreme  perplexity.  The  mischief  could  be 
covered  up  to  be  sure  with  the  largest  of  his  specimens ;  but  the 
spirit  for  new  offerings  was  gone,  and  the  accident  might  almost 
be  considered  a  hint  and  warning  of  the  danger  there  always  is 
in  wishing  to  approach  the  Deity  in  such  a  way." 


Goethe's  polytheistic  tendencies  appear  in  an  elaboration  of 
the  Christian  doctrines  into  a  religious  system  which  was  similar 
to  the  old  gnosticism  with  the  details  of  which,  however,  Goethe 
was  probably  unfamiliar.  His  elaboration  will  therefore  remain 
a  curious  parallel  in  the  eyes  of  any  one  who  compares  the  laws 
of  mental  evolution  in  the  individual  and  in  the  history  of  man- 
kind. We  ought  to  remember  though  that  the  following  state- 
ment must  not  be  taken  too  seriously.  We  must  bear  in  mind 
that  here  it  is  Goethe  the  poet  who  speaks,  and  he  recapitulates 
merely  a  phase  of  his  development,  not  the  final  result  of  his 
views.     He  says : 

"1  diligently  studied  the  ^-arious  opinions ;  and  I  had  often 
enough  heard  it  said  that  ultimately  every  man  has  his  ow^n  re- 
ligion, so  nothing  seemed  more  natural  to  me  than  that  I  should 
form  mine  too;  and  this  I  did  with  much  satisfaction.  Neo- 
Platonism  lay  at  the  foundation  ;  the  hermetical,  the  mystical,  the 
cabalistic,  also  contributed  their  share ;  and  thus  I  built  for  myself 
a  world  that  looked  strange  enough. 

'T  could  easily  represent  to  myself  a  Godhead  which  has 
gone  on  producing  itself  from  all  eternity;  but,  as  production 
can  not  be  conceived  without  multiplicity,  so  of  necessity  it  must 
have  immediately  appeared  to  itself  as  a  Second,  which  we  rec- 
ognize under  the  name  of  Son ;  now,  these  two  must  continue 
producing,  and  again  manifested  themselves  in  a  Third,  who  was 
just  as  substantial,  living,  and  eternal  as  the  Whole.    With  these 


THE    RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  183 

three,  however,  the  circle  of  the  Godhead  was  complete;  and  it 
would  not  have  been  possible  for  tliem  to  produce  another  per- 
fectly ecjual  to  them. 

"But,  since  the  creative  impulse  always  proceeded,  they  cre- 
ated a  fourth,  which  from  the  beginning  was  self-contradictory, 
inasmuch  as  it  was,  like  them,  unlimited,  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  was  to  be  contained  in  them  and  bounded  by  them.  Now, 
this  was  Lucifer,  t(^  whom  the  whole  power  of  creation  was  com- 
mitted from  this  time  forth,  and  from  whom  all  other  beings 
were  to  proceed.  He  immediately  displayed  his  infinite  activity 
by  creating  the  whole  concourse  of  angels, — all,  again,  after  his 
own  likeness,  unlimited,  but  contained  in  him  and  bounded  by 
him.  Surrounded  by  such  a  glory,  he  forgot  his  higher  origin, 
and  believed  that  he  could  find  it  within  himself ;  and  from  this 
first  ingratitude  sprang  all  that  does  not  seem  to  us  in  accordance 
with  the  will  and  purposes  of  the  Godhead. 

"Now  the  more  Lucifer  concentrated  himself  within  himself, 
the  more  painful  must  his  condition  have  become  to  him,  as  well 
as  to  all  the  spirits  whose  sweet  uprising  to  their  origin  he  had 
prevented.  And  so  there  took  place  what  is  known  to  us  as  the 
Fall  of  the  Angels.  One  part  of  them  joined  Lucifer,  the  others 
turned  to  their  origin. 

"From  this  concentration  of  cosmic  development — for  it  had 
proceeded  out  of  Lucifer,  and  was  bound  to  follow  him — sprang 
all  that  we  perceive  under  the  form  of  matter,  which  we  figure 
to  ourselves  as  heavy,  solid,  and  dark,  but  which,  since  it  is 
descended,  if  even  not  immediately,  yet  b}'  filiation,  from  the 
Divine  Being,  is  just  as  unlimited,  powerful,  and  eternal  as  its 
sire  and  grandsire. 

"Now  since  the  whole  mischief,  if  we  may  call  it  so,  arose 
merely  through  the  one-sided  direction  of  Lucifer,  the  1)etter  part 
of  this  creation  was  indeed  wanting;  for  it  possessed  all  that  is 
gained  by  concentration,  while  it  lacked  all  that  can  be  efi:*ected 
by  expansion  alone,  and  so  the  entire  creation  might  have  been 
destroyed  by  everlasting  concentration,  have  become  annihilated 
with  its  father  Lucifer,  and  have  lost  all  its  claims  to  an  equal 
eternity  with  the  Godhead.  This  condition  the  Elohim  contem- 
plated for  a  time  :  and  thev  had  their  choice,  either  to  wait  for 


184  GOETHE. 

those  eons  in  which  the  field  would  again  have  become  clear,  and 
space  would  be  left  them  for  a  new  creation:  or,  if  they  would, 
to  seize  upon  that  which  already  existed,  and  supply  the  want 
according  to  their  own  eternity.  They  chose  the  latter,  and 
merely  by  their  will  supplied  in  an  instant  the  whole  want  which 
the  consequence  of  Lucifer's  undertaking  involved.  They  gave 
to  the  Eternal  Being  the  faculty  of  expansion,  of  moving  towards 
them:  the  peculiar  pulse  of  life  was  again  restored,  and  Lucifer 
himself  could  not  avoid  its  effects.  This  is  the  epoch  when  that 
appeared  which  we  know  as  light,  and  when  that  began  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  designate  by  the  word  'creation.' 

''However  much  this  multiplied  itself  by  progressive  degrees, 
through  the  continually  w^orking  vital  power  of  the  Elohim,  still 
a  being  was  wanting  who  might  be  able  to  restore  the  original 
connection  with  the  Godhead :  and  so  man  was  created,  who  in  all 
things  was  to  be  similar,  yea,  equal  to  the  Godhead,  but  thereby, 
in  effect,  found  himself  once  more  in  the  situation  of  Lucifer,  that 
of  being  at  once  unlimited  and  limited.  And  since  this  contra- 
diction was  to  manifest  itself  in  him  through  all  the  categories 
of  existence,  and  a  perfect  consciousness,  as  well  as  a  decided 
will,  was  to  accompany  his  various  conditions,  it  was  to  be  fore- 
seen that  he  must  be  at  the  same  time  the  most  perfect  and  the 
most  imperfect,  the  most  happy  and  the  most  unhappy,  creature. 
It  was  not  long  before  he,  too,  completely  acted  the  part  of  Luci- 
fer. True  ingratitude  is  the  separation  from  the  benefactor ;  and 
thus  that  fall  was  manifest  for  the  second  time,  although  the 
whole  creation  is  nothing  and  was  nothing  but  a  falling  from  and 
returning  to  the  original. 

"One  easily  sees  how  the  Redemption  has  here  not  only  been 
decreed  from  eternity,  but  is  considered  as  eternally  necessary, 
— nay,  that  it  must  ever  renew  itself  through  the  whole  time  of 
becoming  and  being  (IVerden  unci  JVesen).  In  this  view  of  the 
subject,  nothing  is  more  natural  than  for  Divinity  itself  to  take 
on  the  form  of  man,  which  had  already  prepared  itself  as  a  veil, 
and  to  share  his  fate  for  a  short  time,  in  order,  by  this  assimila- 
tion, to  enhance  his  joys  and  alleviate  his  sorrows.  The  history 
of  all  religions  and  philosophies  teaches  us  that  this  great  truth, 
indispensable  to  man,  has  been  handed  down  by  different  nations, 


THE    RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  185 

in  different  times,  in  various  ways,  and  even  in  strange  fables 
and  images,  in  accordance  with  their  Hmited  knowledge.  Enough, 
if  it  only  be  acknowledged  that  we  find  ourselves  in  a  condition, 
which,  even  if  it  seems  to  drag  us  down  and  oppress  us,  yet 
gives  us  opportunity,  nay,  e\'en  makes  it  our  duty,  to  uplift  our- 
selves, and  thereby  to  fulfil  the  purposes  of  the  Godhead,  so  that, 
while  we  are  compelled  on  the  one  hand  to  actualize  our  own 
selves  (u]is  ■:u  z'crsclbsfcji) ,  we,  on  the  other  hand,  do  not  fail 
to  unself  ourselves  {iius  c;ii  cufsclbsfigcn)   in  regular  pulsation." 


Goethe  disliked  the  jealousy  of  the  God  of  the  Jews  who 
would  not  tolerate  other  gods  beside  himself.  He  loved  Jacobi 
for  his  positive  Christian  conviction,  and  was  only  alienated  from 
him  through  his  friend's  narrowness,  but  even  then  he  never 
ceased  to  appreciate  his  character  and  to  cherish  his  regard.  It 
is  well  known  that  the  poet's  pagan  spirit  frequently  proved 
offensive  to  the  piety  of  this  devout  Christian ;  but  it  would  be 
wrong  to  think  that  Goethe  was  an  enemy  to  Christianity,  for  he 
was  both  Christian  and  pagan  at  once. 

Goethe  wrote  in  his  diary  of  1812: 

"Jacobi's  book  'On  Divine  Things'  does  me  no  good.  How 
could  I  welcome  the  book  of  a  dearly  beloved  friend  in  which  I 
found  the  proposition  that  'nature  conceals  God'  ?  Is  it  not 
natural  that  according  to  my  pure,  and  deep,  and  inborn,  and 
expert  conception  which  has  taught  me  unfalteringly  to  see  God 
in  nature  and  nature  in  God,  so  that  this  conception  constitutes 
the  foundation  of  my  entire  existence — is  it  not  natural  that  such 
a  strange  and  onesided  and  limited  exposition  must  alienate  me 
from  the  noble  man  whose  heart  I  dearly  love?  However,  I  did 
not  indulge  my  painful  disappointment,  but  sought  refuge  in  my 
old  asylum,  making  Spinoza's  'Ethics'  for  scA'eral  weeks  my  daily 
entertainment." 

With  regard  to  the  same  book  Jacobi  wrote  to  Goethe  on 
December  28,  1812  :  'T  am  sorry  that  my  booklet  has  'pretty  much 
indisposed'  you.  Perhaps  you  will  read  it  over  once  more  after 
a  year's  time  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  you  will. .  I  do  not  believe. 


186 


GOETHE. 


as  you  do,  that  we  are  ccjnstantly  diverging,  but  that  my  love  for 
you  cannot  (he,  a'ou  should  know." 

Goethe  answered  this  kind  letter  of  his  friend  on  January 
6,  1813: 

''Men  are  united  by  convictions ;  they  are  separated  by  opin- 
ions. The  former  are  units  in  which  we  come  together,  the 
latter   are   manifolds   in    which    we   become    dispersed....    The 


FRIEDRTCH  HEINRICH  JACOBI. 


friendships  of  our  youth  are  founded  on  the  former;  our  dif- 
ferences in  an  advanced  age  are  due  to  the  latter.  As  to  myself 
I  can  not,  considering  the  diverse  directions  of  m}'  nature,  be 
satisfied  with  one  way  of  thinking.  As  a  poet  and  artist  I  am 
polytheistic,  as  a  naturalist  I  am  pantheistic,  and  I  am  the  one  as 
decidedly  as  the  other.  In  case  I  needed  a  God  for  my  personality 
as  a  moral  being,  I  should  be  provided  therewith.    Heavenly  and 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  187 

earthly  things  comprise  such  a  wide  reahii  that  they  can  be 
coA'ered  onlv  l)v  tlie  activity  of  all  taken  together.  You  see  such 
is  my  case,  and  in  this  \\a}'  I  work  entirely  within  and  without 
myself,  and  I  desire  that  every  one  else  should  do  the  same. 
Only  when  what  is  indispensable  iov  \m'  own  being  and  doing 
is  treated  bv  others  as  subordinate,  unreal  or  even  obnoxious,  do 
I  permit  mvself  for  some  moments  to  be  cross,  nor  do  I  conceal 
it  from  mv  friends  or  those  who  are  near  me.  The  mood  soon 
passes  and  though  I  niay  be  headstrong  in  my  own  way,  I  be- 
ware of  a  reaction." 

After  Jacobi's  death  in  1819,  Goethe  sums  up  his  view  of  him 
as  follows:  "Jacobi  thought  first  of  spirit,  I  of  nature.  We  were 
separated  by  what  should  have  united  us,  but  the  first  ground  of 
our  relations  remained  unshaken.  Our  inclination,  love  and  con- 
fidence remained  constant,  yet  the  loving  interest  became  grad- 
ually less  and  finally  disappeared.  During  our  later  labors  we 
never  again  exchanged  a  friendly  word.  Strange  that  persons 
who  cultivate  the  powers  of  thought  could  not  become  clear  con- 
cerning their  mutual  relations,  that  they  should  allow  themselves 
to  be  disturbed,  through  a  mere  onesicledness  of  speech,  by  an- 
tagonistic thought  and  error  that  could  easily  be  removed.  Why 
did  we  not  say  in  season,  '\\nio  desires  the  highest,  must  will  the 
whole ;  who  speaks  of  spirit  must  presuppose  nature ;  who  speaks 
of  nature  must  presuppose  spirit,  or  if  not  presuppose,  must 
tacitly  assume  it.  We  cannot  separate  thinking  from  thought, 
will  from  what  is  willed.'  Had  we  tried  to  understand  one  an- 
other we  might  have  gone  through  life  hand  in  hand,  instead, 
as  is  now  the  case,  at  the  end  of  our  careers  when  contemplating 
our  paths  trodden  in  separation,  with  a  kindly  and  even  cordial, 
but  none  the  less  actual,  regret." 


Goethe  can  scarcejlyj3^_cal]led  a  believer  in  Christian  dogmas, 
butHie  always  took  a  deep  and  sympathetic  interest  in  genuinely 
pious  people.  His  friendship  for  Fraulein  \'on  Klettenberg,  his 
fondness  for  Jacobi  and  his  intimacy  with  Jung-Stilling  are  well 
known.  He  went  so  far  as  to  help  the  latter  in  the  publication 
of  his  books  which  appeared  under  the  titles  Heinrich  Stillhigs 


188  GOETHE. 

Jiigcjid  and  Stilliiigs  Jiiiigliiigsjahrc.  At  first  sight  Goethe  might 
be  thought  to  hold  views  at  the  same  time  that  seem  irrecon- 
cilable, and  yet  there  need  be  no  inconsistency  in  his  several 
utterances.  We  will  here  enumerate  some  of  these  apparent  con- 
tradictions. 

Goethe's  poetic  nature  made  him  appreciate  Roman  Catholic 
ceremonies  and  rituals.  Protestantism  was  too  prosaic  and  did 
not  appeal  to  his  emotional  nature.  His  views  are  worth  con- 
sidering.    He  w^'ites : 

"The  Protestant  service  has  too  little  fulness  and  consistency 
to  be  able  to  hold  the  congregation  together;  hence  it  easily 
happens  that  members  secede  from  it,  and  either  form  little  con- 
oTCPations  of  their  own,  or,  without  ecclesiastical  connection, 
quietly  carry  on  their  civic  existence  side  by  side.  Thus  for  a 
considerable  time  complaints  were  made  that  church-going  di- 
minished from  year  to  year,  and  also  attendance  at  the  Lord's 
Supper.  With  respect  to  both,  but  especially  the  latter,  the  cause 
lies  close  at  hand;  but  who  dares  speak  it  out?  We  will  make 
the  attempt. 

"In  moral  and  religious,  as  well  as  in  physical  and  civic, 
matters,  man  does  not  like  to  do  anything  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment ;  he  needs  a  sequence  from  which  habit  results.  What 
he  is  to  love  and  to  perform,  he  cannot  represent  to  himself  as 
single  or  isolated;  and,  if  he  is  to  repeat  anything  willingly,  it 
must  not  have  ])ecome  strange  to  him.  H  the  Protestant  worship 
lacks  fulness  in  general,  so  let  it  be  investigated  in  detail,  and  it 
will  be  found  that  the  Protestant  has  too  few  sacraments, — nay, 
indeed,  he  has  only  one  in  which  he  is  himself  an  actor,  the 
Lord's  Supper ;  for  baptism  he  sees  only  when  it  is  performed 
on  others,  and  is  not  greatly  edified  by  it.  The  sacraments  are 
the  highest  part  of  religion,  the  symbols  to  our  senses  of  an 
extraordinary  divine  favor  and  grace.  In  the  Lord's  Supper 
earthly  lips  are  to  receive  a  divine  Being  embodied,  and  partake 
of  a  heavenly  nourishment  under  the  form  of  an  earthly  one. 
This  import  is  the  same  in  all  kinds  of  Christian  churches. 
Whether  the  sacrament  is  taken  with  more  or  less  submission  to 
the  mystery,  with  more  or  less  accommodation  as  to  that  which  is 
intelligible,  it  always  remains  a  great,  holy  thing,  which  in  reality 


4 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  189 

takes  the  place  of  the  possible  or  the  impossible,  the  place  of  that 
which  man  can  neither  attain  nor  do  without.  But  such  a  sacra- 
ment should  not  stand  alone.  No  Christian  can  partake  of  it 
with  the  true  joy  for  which  it  is  given  if  the  symbolical  or  sacra- 
mental sense  is  not  fostered  within  him.  He  must  be  accustomed 
to  regard  the  inner  religion  of  the  heart  and  that  of  the  external 
church  as  perfectly  one,  as  the  great  universal  sacrament,  which 
again  divides  itself  into  so  many  others,  and  communicates  to 
these  parts  its  holiness  and  eternity. 

''Here  a  youthful  pair  join  hands,  not  for  a  passing  saluta- 
tion or  for  a  dance ;  the  priest  pronounces  his  blessing  upon  them, 
and  the  bond  is  indissoluble.  It  is  not  long  before  this  wedded 
pair  bring  their  own  likeness  to  the  threshold  of  the  altar.  The 
infant  is  purified  with  holy  water,  and  so  incorporated  into  the 
church  that  it  cannot  forfeit  this  benefit  except  through  the  most 
monstrous  apostasy.  In  the  course  of  life  the  child  goes  on  grow- 
ing in  worldly  things  of  his  own  accord,  but  in  heavenly  things 
he  must  be  instructed.  If  on  examination  it  proves  that  this  has 
been  fully  done,  he  is  received  into  the  bosom  of  the  church  as 
an  actual  citizen,  as  a  sincere  and  fully  convinced  Christian,  not 
without  outward  tokens  of  the  significance  of  this  act.  Now, 
only,  is  he  truly  a  Christian ;  now  for  the  first  time  does  he  know 
his  privileges  and  also  his  duties.  But,  in  the  meantime,  a  great 
deal  that  is  strange  has  happened  to  him  as  a  man.  Through  in- 
struction and  affliction  he  has  come  to  know  how  critical  appears 
the  state  of  his  inner  self,  and  there  questions  of  doctrines  and  of 
transgressions  will  constantly  occur ;  but  punishment  shall  no 
longer  take  place.  For  here  in  the  infinite  confusion  in  which 
he  must  entangle  himself,  amid  the  conflict  of  natural  and  re- 
ligious claims,  an  admirable  expedient  is  given  him,  in  con- 
fiding his  deeds  and  misdeeds,  his  infirmities  and  doubts,  to  a 
worthy  man  appointed  expressly  for  that  purpose,  who  knows 
how  to  calm,  to  warn,  to  strengthen  him,  to  chasten  him  likewise 
by  symbolical  punishments,  and  at  last,  by  complete  washing  away 
of  his  guilt,  to  render  him  happy,  and  to  give  him  back,  pure  and 
cleansed,  the  tablet  of  his  manhood.  Thus  prepared,  and  set 
entirely  at  rest  by  several  sacramental  features,  he  kneels  down 
to  receive  the  Host;  and,  that  the  mystery  of  this  high  act  may 


190  GOETHE. 

he  still  enhanced,  he  sees  the  chalice  only  in  the  distance.  It  is 
no  common  eating  and  drinking  that  satisfies — it  is  a  heavenly 
feast,  which  makes  him  thirst  after  heavenly  drink. 

''Yet  let  not  the  youth  believe  that  this  is  all  he  has  to  do :  let 
not  even  the  man  l)elieve  it.  In  earthly  relations  we  finally  be- 
come accustomed  to  depend  on  ourselves;  and  even  there  knowl- 
edge, understanding,  and  character  will  not  always  sufiice :  while 
on  the  other  hand  in  heavenly  things  we  never  finish  learning. 
The  higher  feeling  within  us,  which  often  finds  itself  not  quite 
at  home,  is,  moreover,  oppressed  by  so  much  from  without,  that 
our  own  power  hardly  administers  all  that  is  necessary  for 
counsel,  consolation,  and  help.  But  to  this  end  that  remedy  is 
instituted  for  our  whole  life,  and  an  intelligent,  pious  man  is 
continually  waiting  to  show  the  right  way  to  the  wanderers,  and 
to  relieve  the  distressed. 

"And  what  has  been  so  well  tried  throughout  all  of  life,  is 
now  to  show  forth  all  its  healing  power  with  tenfold  strength 
at  the  gate  of  death.  According  to  a  familiar  custom,  inculcated 
from  youth  upwards,  the  dying  man  receives  with  fervor  those 
symbolical,  significant  assurances,  and  where  every  earthly  war- 
ranty fails,  he  is  assured  by  a  heavenly  one  of  a  blessed  existence 
for  all  eternity.  He  feels  perfectly  convinced  that  neither  a 
hostile  element  nor  a  malignant  spirit  can  hinder  him  from  cloth- 
ino-  himself  with  a  transfio-ured  body,  so  that,  in  direct  relation 
with  the  Godhead,  he  may  partake  of  the  boundless  bliss  which 
flows  forth  from  God. 

''Then,  in  conclusion,  that  the  whole  man  may  be  made  holy, 
the  feet  are  anointed  and  blessed.  They  are  to  feel,  even  in  the 
event  of  possible  recovery,  a  repugnance  to  touching  this  earthly, 
hard,  impenetrable  soil.  A  wonderful  elasticity  is  to  be  imparted 
to  them,  by  which  they  si)urn  from  under  the  clod  of  earth 
which  hitherto  attracted  them.  And  so,  through  a  brilliant  cycle 
of  equally  holy  acts,  the  l)eauty  of  which  we  have  only  briefly 
hinted  at,  the  cradle  and  the  grave,  however  far  asunder  they 
may  chance  to  be,  are  joined  in  one  continuous  circle. 

"But  all  these  spiritual  wonrlers  spring  not  like  other  fruits 
from  the  natural  soil,  wliere  the}'  can  neither  be  sown  nor  planted 
nor  cherished.     ^^>  must  supplicate  for  them  another  region — a 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  191 

thing  which  cannot  be  done  by  all  persons  nor  at  all  times.  Here 
we  meet  the  highest  of  these  symbols,  derived  from  pious  tradi- 
tion. We  are  told  that  one  man  may  be  more  favored,  blessed, 
and  sanctified  from  above  than  another.  But  that  this  may  not 
appear  as  a  natural  gift,  this  great  boon,  bound  up  with  a  heavy 
duty,  must  be  communicated  to  others  by  one  authorized  person 
to  another ;  and  the  greatest  good  that  a  man  can  gain,  without 
having  to  acquire  it  by  his  own  wrestling  or  grasping,  must  be 
preserved  and  perpetuated  on  earth  by  spiritual  inheritance.  In 
the  very  ordination  of  the  priest  is  comprehended  all  that  is  neces- 
sary for  the  effectual  solemnizing  of  those  holy  acts  by  which 
the  multitude  receive  grace,  without  any  other  activity  being  need- 
ful on  their  part  than  that  of  faith  and  implicit  confidence.  And 
thus  the  priest  joins  the  line  of  his  predecessors  and  successors 
in  the  circle  of  those  anointed  witli  him,  representing  the  highest 
source  of  blessings,  so  much  the  more  gloriously  as  it  is  not  he, 
the  priest,  whom  we  reverence,  but  his  office ;  it  is  not  his  nod  to 
which  we  bow  the  knee,  but  the  blessing  which  he  imparts,  and 
which  seems  the  more  holy,  and  to  come  the  more  immediately 
from  heaven,  because  the  earthl}'  instrument  cannot  at  all  weaken 
or  invalidate  it  by  its  own  sinful,  nay,  wicked,  nature. 

"How  shattered  to  pieces  is  this  truly  spiritual  connection  in 
Protestantism,  which  declares  part  of  the  above-mentioned  sym- 
bols apocryphal,  and  only  a  few  canonical ! — and  how,  by  their 
indifference  to  some  of  these,  will  they  prepare  us  for  the  high 
dignity  of  the  others? 

''In  my  childhood  I  was  once  confided  to  the  religious  instruc- 
tion of  a  good  old  infirm  clergyman,  who  had  been  confessor 
of  the  famih'  for  many  years.  The  'Catechism,'  a  'Paraphrase' 
of  it,  and  the  'Scheme  of  Salvation,'  I  had  at  my  fingers'  ends: 
I  lacked  not  one  of  the  strong  and  convincing  Biblical  texts,  but 
from  all  this  I  reaped  no  fruit,  for  as  they  assured  me  that  the 
honest  old  man  arranged  his  chief  examination  according  to  an 
ancient  set  formulary,  I  lost  all  pleasure  and  inclination  for  the 
affair,  spent  the  last  week  in  all  sorts  of  diversions,  laid  in  my 
hat  the  loose  leaves  borrowed  from  an  older  friend  who  had 
gotten  them  from  the  clergyman,  and  unfeelingly  and  without 


192  GOETHE. 

understanding  read  aloud  all  that  I  might  have  uttered  with  feel- 
ing and  conviction. 

''My  good  intention  and  my  aspirations  in  this  important 
matter  were  still  more  paralyzed  l3y  a  dry,  spiritless  routine, 
when  I  was  about  to  approach  the  confessional.  I  was  indeed 
conscious  of  having  many  failings  but  no  great  faults ;  and  that 
very  consciousness  diminished  them,  since  it  directed  me  to  the 
moral  strength  which  lay  within  me,  and  which,  with  resolution 
and  perseverance,  was  at  last  to  become  master  over  the  old 
Adam.  We  were  taught  that  we  were  much  better  than  the 
Catholics  for  the  very  reason  that  we  were  not  obliged  to  confess 
anything  in  particular  in  the  confessional, — nay,  that  this  would 
not  be  at  all  proper,  even  if  we  wished  to  do  it.  I  did  not  like 
this  at  all ;  for  I  had  the  strangest  religious  doubts,  which  I 
would  gladly  have  cleared  up  on  such  an  occasion.  Now,  as 
this  was  not  to  be  done,  I  composed  a  confession  for  myself, 
which,  while  it  well  expressed  my  state  of  mind,  was  to  confess 
to  an  intelligent  man,  in  general  terms,  that  which  I  was  for- 
bidden to  tell  him  in  detail.  But  when  I  entered  the  old  choir 
of  the  ancient  church  of  the  Barefoot  Friars  (the  church  used 
by  the  Protestants  of  Frankfort),  when  I  approached  the  strange 
latticed  closets  in  which  the  reverend  gentlemen  used  to  be  found 
for  that  purpose,  when  the  sexton  opened  the  door  for  me,  when 
I  now  saw  myself  shut  up  in  the  narrow  place  face  to  face  with 
my  spiritual  grandsire  and  he  bade  me  welcome  with  his  weak, 
nasal  voice,  all  the  light  of  my  mind  and  heart  was  extinguished 
at  once,  the  well-conned  confession-speech  would  not  cross  my 
lips.  In  my  embarrassment  I  opened  the  book  I  had  in  my  hand, 
and  read  from  it  the  lirst  short  form  I  saw,  which  was  so  general, 
that  anybody  might  ha\'e  spoken  it  with  quite  a  safe  conscience. 
I  received  absolution,  withdrew  neither  warm  nor  cold,  went  the 
next  day  with  my  parents  to  the  Table  of  the  Lord,  and,  for  a 
few  days,  behaved  myself  as  was  becoming  after  so  holy  an  act." 

While  Goethe  praises  the  ])eauty  of  the  Roman  Catholic  cere- 
monies and  criticizes  the  prosaic  tenor  of  the  Protestant  religion, 
he  recognizes  the  significance  of  the  Reformation  and  expresses 
gratitude  to  Luther.  In  the  very  last  year  of  his  life  in  his 
"Conversations  with  Eckermann"  he  said: 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  193 

''We  are  not  in  the  least  aware  of  all  for  which  we  have  to 
thank  Luther  and  the  Reformation  in  general.  We  have  been  made 
free  from  the  fetters  of  spiritual  narrowness;  as  a  result  of  our 
advancing  culture  we  have  become  able  to  go  back  to  the  source 
and  grasp  Christianity  in  its  purity.  We  have  once  more  the 
courage  to  stand  on  God's  earth  with  firm  feet  and  to  recognize 
ourselves  in  our  God-given  human  nature.  If  the  spiritual  cul- 
ture continues  to  advance,  if  the  natural  sciences  grow  in  ever 
increasing  breadth  and  greater  depth,  and  if  the  human  soul  ex- 
pands, as  it  may,  it  will  never  surpass  the  sublimity  and  moral 
culture  of  Christianity  as  it  gleams  and  shines  in  the  Gospels." 


Goethe  was  broader  then  either  Roman  Catholic  or  Protes- 
tant, and  in  the  face  of  an  attempt  made  by  Countess  Bernstein 
to  convert  him,  he  maintained  his  position  in  these  words  (Oc- 
tober, 1809)  :  "I  have  tried  my  life  long  to  be  candid  with  myself 
and  with  others,  and  in  all  earthly  affairs  have  always  looked  at 
the  highest  things ;  you  and  yours  have  done  the  same.  Let  us 
therefore  continue  so  as  long  as  it  is  day  for  us ;  a  sun  will  shine 
for  others  also.  They  will  make  their  way  to  it  and  incidentally 
illuminate  us  with  a  brighter  light.  May  all  be  again  united  in 
the  arms  of  the  all-loving  Father!" 

Goethe  was  a  good  observer  and  he  noticed  that  pious  Chris- 
tians, in  spite  of  their  agreement  in  belief,  held  very  different 
religious  tenets.  The  words  in  which  they  expressed  themselves 
were  to  some  extent  the  same,  but  the  sentiments,  attitudes  and 
conceptions  of  each  varied  according  to  their  needs.  So,  for  in- 
stance, he  noted  when  Lavater  met  Fraulein  von  Klettenberg  in 
Frankfort,  that,  although  they  wxre  apparently  and  in  all  ex- 
ternalities one  in  their  religious  faith,  yet  they  conceived  of  their 
vSaviour  in  a  very  different  manner.  Goethe  says  in  "Truth  and 
Fiction,"  Book  XIV:  'Tt  has  been  repeatedly  claimed  in  times  of 
toleration  that  every  man  has  his  own  religion,  his  own  way  of 
serving  God.  Although  I  did  not  maintain  this  directly  I  could 
notice  in  the  present  case  that  men  and  women  standJji  need  of 
a  different  Saviour.  Fraulein  von  Klettenberg's  attitude  to  him 
was  a  woman's  attitude  toward  a  lover  to  whom  she  surrenders 


194 


GOETHE. 


unconditionally.  All  joy  and  all  hope  is  placed  in  his  person 
and  she  entrusts  to  him,  and  without  douht  or  hesitancy,  the  fate 
of  her  life.     J.a\ater,  liowcver,  regarded  his  Saviour  as  a  friend 


JOHANN  KASPAR  LAVATER. 
After  a  water  color  by  H.  Lips  in  the  K.  K.  Familien-Fideikommiss-Bibliothek. 

whom  a  man  would  jealously  strive  to  imitate  without  envy  and 
lovingly,  whose  merit  he  recognizes  and  praises  and  like  whom 
for  that  reason  he  endeavors  to  hecome." 


THE    RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  195 

Goethe  was  not  an  anti-Christian  but  an  anti-dogniatist.  and 
demurred  when  Lavater  attempted  to  convert  him  to  his  rather 
narrow  view  of  Christianity.  If  he  had  to  be  classified  at  all  he 
would  even  have  preferred  an  outspoken  infidelity.  He  savs  in 
"Truth  and  Fiction"  (  Book  XI\' )  : 

"All  unsuccessful  attempts  at  conversion  leave  him  who  has 
been  selected  for  a  proselyte  stubborn  and  obdurate :  and  this 
was  especially  the  case  with  me  when  Lavater  at  last  came  out 
with  the  hard  dilemma, — 'Either  Christian  or  atheist!'  Upon 
this  I  declared  that  if  he  would  not  leave  me  my  own  Christianitv 
as  I  had  hitherto  cherished  it  I  could  readily  decide  for  atheism, 
particularly  as  I  saw  that  nobody  knew  precisely  what  either 
meant." 


Goethe  loved  and  cherished  the  Bible ;  lie  says :  "As  for  my- 
self I  loved  and  valued  it :  for  almost  to  it  alone  did  I  owe  my 
moral  culture.  The  events,  the  doctrines,  the  symbols,  the  similes, 
had  all  impressed  themselves  deeply  upon  me  and  had  influenced 
me  in  one  way  or  another.  Unjust,  scofting.  and^erverted  at- 
tacks, therefore,  disgusted  me :  but  people  had  already  gone  so  far 
as  willingly  to  admi^  partly  for  the  sake  of  defending  many  pas- 
sages, that  God  had  accommodated  himself  to  the  modes  of 
thought  and  power  of  comprehension  in  men :  that  even  those 
moved  by  the  spirit  had  not  on  that  account  been  able  to  renounce 
tlieir  character,  their  individuality,  and  that  Amos,  a  cow-herd, 
did  not  use  the  language  of  Isaiah,  who  is  said  to  have  been  a 
prince." 

An  incident  recorded  by  Falk  under  the  date  of  November 
10,  1810,  seems  to  stand  in  flat  contradiction  to  Goethe's  praise 
of  the  Bible.  In  a  conversation  which  he  carried  on  with  a 
bigoted  Roman  Catholic  doctor  in  1810  in  the  presence  of  the 
high-minded  and  pious  Louis  Bonaparte,  ex-king  of  Holland,  he 
branded  the  Bible  as  a  dangerous  book.  \\'e  let  Goethe  tell  this 
incident  in  his  own  words  as  related  by  Falk : 

"But  once  when  he  [this  bigoted  man]  started  again  an  almost 
Capuchinian  tirade  on  the  dangerousness  of  books  and  the  book- 
trade  I  could  not  help  answering  him  with  the  opinion  that  the 


196  GOETHE. 

most  dangerous  of  all  books,  so  far  as  the  history  of  the  world  is 
concerned,  is  indubitably  the  Bible,  because  no  other  book  has 
brought  so  much  good  and  so  much  evil  to  the  human  race.  When 
I  had  finished  this  speech  I  was  somewhat  frightened  at  what  I 
had  said,  for  I  thought  the  powder-mine  would  now  explode  into 
the  air  in  all  directions.  Fortunately,  however,  it  happened 
otherwise.  To  be  sure  I  saw  the  doctor  first  grow^  pale  and  then 
red  again  from  terror  and  wrath  at  these  words,  but  the  king- 
composed  himself  with  his  usual  gentleness  and  friendliness  and 
said  almost  jokingly :  'Cela  perce  quelqiiefois  que  Monsieur  de 
Goethe  est  heretique  ;  (Sometimes  the  heretic  crops  out  in  Mon- 
sieur de  Goethe)." 

In  Wilhelm  Meister,  Book  VI,  we  read  the  following  passage, 
which  we  cannot  doubt  relates  an  incident  of  Goethe's  own  ex- 
perience, although  it  may  seem  inconsistent  with  the  understand- 
ing of  his  views  we  have  received  from  other  statements  he  has 
made.  He  says :  "Once  I  prayed  out  of  the  depth  of  my  heart, 
'Now  Almighty  give  me  faith.'  I  was  then  in  the  condition  in 
Vvhich  one  must  be,  but  seldom  is,  when  one's  prayers  are  ac- 
ceptable to  God.  Who  could  describe  what  I  felt  in  those 
moments?  A  powerful  impulse  drew  my  soul  to  the  cross  on 
which  Jesus  had  perished.  My  soul  was  near  to  him  who  had 
become  man  and  died  on  the  cross,  and  then  I  knew  what  faith 
meant.  'This  is  faith  indeed,'  I  cried,  and  started  up  overawed 
by  the  idea.     For  such  emotions  as  these  all  words  fail  us." 

Goethe  did  not  reject  the  Christian  religion,  but  only  refused 
to  be  limited  by  the  narrowness  of  its  dogmatism.  He  accepted 
the  truths  which  Christianity  has  given  to  the  world,  and  mark 
the  reason  wdiy  he  accepted  them :  Because  they  cannot  be  claimed 
as  the  exclusive  possession  of  a  sect,  but  are  the  heirloom  of  all 
mankind.  Therefore,  he  contends,  the  "scientist"  has  a  right  to 
them;  and  identifying  his  right  with  that  of  the  scientist,  Goethe 
claims  them  for  himself. 

Addressing  Christian  believers,  Goethe  says : 

Ye  faithful,  do  not  claim  that  your  confession 
Alone  is  truth ;  for  we  have  faith  like  you. 

Searchers  can't  be  deprived  of  the  possession 
Belonging  to  the  world,  and  to  me  too. 


THE    RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  197 

[Ihr  Glaiibigen !  riihmt  nur  nicht  euerii  Glauben 

Als  einzigen  :  wir  glauben  aiich  wie  ihr; 
Der  Forscher  liisst  sich  keineswegs  beraubeii 
Des  Erbtheils,  aller  Welt  gegonnt — nnd  mir.] 

Goethe,  the  searcher,  the  inquirer,  beheves  in  a  rehgion  of 
progress  and  would  not  reject  any  Hght,  whatever  its  source. 

Goethe  dishked  the  hteral  behef  in  dogma  and  the  narrow 
interpretation  of  the  sacraments.  He  refused  to  attend  the  bap- 
tism of  Schiller's  second  son  because  the  ceremony  would  jar 
on  him,  but  he  was  not  opposed  to  Christianity.  Accordingly 
he  had  his  own  son  instructed  in  the  Christian  doctrine  by  his 
friend  Herder  who  at  that  time  was  superintendent-general  of- 
the  Weimar  State  Church.  Herder  consented  to  undertake  this 
task  in  a  liberal  spirit  and  Goethe  thanked  him  in  these  words : 
''You  will  have  the  kindness,  my  old  and  honored  friend,  to 
introduce  my  son  to  the  Christian  fellowship  in  a  more  liberal 
manner   than   custom   prescribes.      For  this   I   thank  you   most 

heartily." 

^       ^       ^ 

We  meet  frequently  with  the  statement  that  Goethe's  con- 
fession of  faith  is  contained  in  Faust's  reply  to  Margaret.^  The 
passage  is  most  beautiful  and  the  words  are  so  much  like  music' 
as  to  deserve  to  be  called  a  sonata  of  thought.  Rhymes  prevail 
in  the  beginning  but  are  soon  discarded  while  the  verses  proceed 
more  and  more  in  a  dithyrambic  style  simply  in  obedience  to  the 
general  principle  of  euphony. 

In  contrast  to  the  common  view  I  wish  here  to  protest  against 
the  traditional  interpretation.  Faust's  reply  to  Margaret  is  not 
intended  to  be  a  confession  of  faith,  either  of  Faust  or  of  Goethe 
himself.  We  must  understand  the  scene  according  to  the  situa- 
tion. Margaret  in  her  anxiety  about  the  soul  of  her  dearly  be- 
loved examines  her  friend  as  to  his  belief  in  God,  and  he  dodges 
the  question,  because  he  is  unwilling  to  shock  her  with  his  un- 
belief. A  philosophical  explanation  would  be  out  of  place  with 
this  sweet  but  simple-minded  girl,  and  so  he  resorts  to  the  strate- 
gem  of  answering  her  question  in  fine-sounding  phrases.  His 
words  are  carefully  selected  so  as  to  make  the  same  impression 

^  In  the  sixteenth  scene  of  the  first  part  of  "Faust." 


198 


GOETHE. 


Upon  her  that  she  receives  from  sermons  in  church,  while  in 
fact  his  meaning  is  the  very  opposite  to  the  doctrines  preached 
by  the  priest.  His  tone,  his  fervor,  and  his  style  are  about  the 
same  as  a  devout  pulpiteer  might  use,  Ijut  the  sense  is  different. 
If  we  read  the  scene  with  this  interpretation  in  mind,  we  will 
readily  understand  that  Faust's  reply  to  Margaret  can  not,  and 
should  not,  be  regarded  as  Goethe's  confession  of  faith.  Here 
is  the  scene  in  Bavard  Tavlor's  excellent  translation  : 


M  ARGARET. 

Believest  thou  in  God? 

FAUST. 

My  darling,  who  shall  dare 
"1  believe  in  God!"  to  say? 
Ask  priest  or  sage  the  answer  to  de- 
clare, 
And  it  will  seem  a  mocking  play, 
A  sarcasm  on  the  asker. 

MARGARET. 

Then  thou  believest  not ! 

FAUST. 

Hear  me  not  falsely,  sweetest  coun- 
tenance ! 

Who  dare  express   Him? 

And  who  profess  Him? 

Saying:  I  believe  in  Him! 

Who,  feeling,  seeing, 

Deny  His  being. 

Saying :  I  believe  Him  not ! 

The  All-enfolding, 

The  All-upholding, 

Folds  and  upholds  He  not 

Thee,  me.  Himself? 

Arches  there  not  the  sky  above  us? 

Lies  not  beneath   us  firm  the  earth  ? 

And  rise  not,  on  us  shining. 

Friendly,  the  everlasting  stars? 

Look  I  not,  eye  to  eye,  on  thee, 

And  feel'st  not,  thronging 

To  head  and  heart,  the  force, 

Still  weaving  its  eternal  secret. 

Invisible,  visible,  round  thy  life? 

Vast  as  it  is,  fill  with  that  force  thy 
heart. 


MARG  ARETE. 

[Glaubst  Du  an  Gott? 

FAUST. 

Mein  Liebchen,  wer  darf  sagen : 
Ich  glaub'  an  Gott? 
Magst  Priester  oder  Weise  fragen, 
Und  ihre  Ant  wort  scheint  nur  Spott 
Ueber  den  Frager  zu  sein. 


MARG  ARETE. 

So  glaubst  Du  nicht? 

FAUST. 

Misshor  mich  nicht,  Du  holdes  Ange- 

sicht ! 
Wer  darf  ihn  nennen, 
L^nd  wer  bekennen : 
Ich  glaub'  ihn? 
Wer  empfinden 
Und  sich  unterwinden, 
Zu  sagen:  ich  glaub'  ihn  nicht? 
Der  Allumfasser, 
Der  Allerhalter, 
Fasst  und  erhalt  er  nicht 
Dich,  mich,  sich  selbst? 
Wolbt    sich    der    Himmel    nicht    da 

droben  ? 
Liegt  die  Erde  nicht  bier  unten  fest  ? 
Und  steigen,  freundlich  blickend, 
Fwige   Sterne  nicht  herauf? 
Schau'  ich  nicht  Aug'  in  Auge  Dir, 
LTnd  drangt  nicht  Alles 
Nach  Haupt  und  Herzen  Dir 
Und  webt  in  ewigem  Geheimniss, 
Unsichtbar,  sichtbar,  neben  Dir? 
Erfiill  davon  Dein  Herz,  so  gross  es 

ist, 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


199 


And  when  thou  in  the  feeHng  wholly 

blessed  art, 
Call  it,  then,  what  thou  wilt, — 
Call  it  Bliss!  Heart!  Love!  God! 
I  have  no  name  to  give  it ! 
Feeling  is  all  in  all : 
The  Name  is  sound  and  smoke. 
Obscuring  Heaven's  clear  glow. 

MARGARET. 

All  that  is  fine  and  good,  to  hear  it  so  : 
Much    the  same  way  the  preacher 

spoke, 
Only  with   slightly  different  phrases. 

FAUST. 

The  same  thing  in  all  places, 
All  hearts  that  beat  beneath  the  heav- 
enly day — 
Each  in  its  language — say; 
Then  why  not  I,  in  mine,  as  well? 


Und  wenn  Du  ganz  in  dem  Gefiihle 

selig  bist, 
Nenn'  es  dann,  wie  Du  willst, 
Nenn's  Gliick  !  Herz  !  Liebe  !  Gott ! 
Ich  habe  keinen  Namen 
Dafiir!     Gefiihl  ist  Alles; 
Name  ist  Schall  und  Rauch, 
Umnebelnd  Himmelsgluth. 

MARG  ARETE. 

Das  ist  Alles  recht  schon  und  gut ; 
Ungefahr  sagt  das  der  Pfarrer  auch, 
Nur  mit  ein  Bisschen  andern  Worten. 


FAUST. 

Es  sagen's  aller  Orten 

Alle  Herzen  unter  dem  himmlischen 

Tage, 
Jedes  in  seiner  Sprache; 
Warum  nicht  ich  in  der  meinen?] 


Faust's  declaration  as  to  his  belief  in  God  consists  of  phrases 
and  of  phrases  only.  It  does  not  contain  thoughts  but  displays  a 
wonderful  iridescence  of  sentiment,  calculated  to  intoxicate  the 
heart  and  capture  the  hearer's  assent. 

But  where  can  we  find  Goethe's  true  confession  of  faith? 

If  Goethe  ever  wrote  a  confession  of  his  faith  it  should  be 
sought  in  the  poem  entitled  "Prometheus,"  but  even  this  slogan  of 
the  rebel,  written  in  a  mood  of  storm  and  stress,  expresses  only 
the  religion  of  one  of  Goethe's  souls.  It  is  one-sided  and  incom- 
plete unless  it  be  contrasted  with  some  other  poem  such  as  ''Gany- 
mede," 'The  Limitations  of  Mankind,"  or  "The  Divine." 

The  young  Goethe  passed  through  the  period  of  revolution, 
called  Sturm  und  Drang. ^  He  was  thrilled  with  the  revolution- 
ary spirit  of  titanic  genius.  He  longed  for  independence  and 
dared  to  assert  himself  in  the  face  of  any  authority.  But  the  old 
Goethe  had  calmed  down,  and  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  neces- 

*The  traditional  translation  of  this  phrase,  which  is  "the  period  of  storm 
and  stress,"  is  not  quite  correct.  The  meaning  of  the  German  words  Sturm- 
und  Drang-Periode  does  not  denote  an  external  condition,  but  a  subjective 
and  active  attitude  of  a  certain  class  of  German  poets.  They  were  trying  to 
take  the  heavens  by  storm  and  applied  themselves  with  bold  vigor.  Sturm 
in  this  connection  does  not  mean  "a  storm"  but  "a  storming,"  and  Drang  "a 
pressing  forward;  violent  endeavor;  a  wild  aspiration." 


200 


GOETHE. 


sity  of  order,  of  law,  of  steady  and  peaceful  conditions  in  life. 
This  contrast  between  the  young  and  the  older  Goethe  does  not 
characterize  successive  periods  but  is  simultaneous.  The  titanic 
nature  predominates  in  his  youth  and  a  conservative  spirit  in  his 


PROMETHEUS. 


maturer  years,  but  they  are  both  integral  parts  of  his  being 
throughout  the  whole  of  his  life.  Both  are  reflected  in  his  poetry 
and  both  permeate  his  religion  and  philosophy. 

Goethe  wrote  'Trometheus"  at  the  end  of  the  year  1774,  in  a 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  201 

period  of  his  life  when  he  isolated  himself  from  others  and  so 
felt  in  sympathy  with  the  Titan  who,  apart  from  all  the  gods, 
constructed  in  his  lonely  workshop  a  world  of  his  own.  He 
communicated  the  poem  to  his  friend  Jacobi,  and  Jacobi  showed 
it  to  Lessing  in  1780  without  revealing  its  authorship,  and  Les- 
sing  was  so  pleased  with  it  that  he  declared  the  standpoint  taken 
in  "Prometheus"  to  be  his  own. 

The  poet  gives  the  following  account  of  his  own  intentions : 
"The  fable  of  Prometheus  began  to  stir  within  me.  I  cut  the 
garment  of  the  old  Titan  to  suit  my  own  stature,  and  without 
further  delay  began  to  write  a  drama  of  the  strained  relations  in 
which  Prometheus  had  become  estranged  from  Zeus  and  the 
other  gods.  He  now  molded  men  with  his  own  hand,  had  them 
endowed  with  life  by  the  favor  of  Minerva,  and  founded  a  third 
dynasty.  And  indeed  the  governing  gods  had  good  reason  to 
complain  since  they  might  be  looked  upon  as  occupying  an  illegiti- 
mate place  between  Titans  and  men.  Part  of  this  work  is  the 
monologue,  which  as  a  separate  poem  has  made  some  stir  in  Ger- 
man literature,  because  by  it  Lessing  was  prompted  to  explain 
several  important  points  in  thought  and  sentiment  in  contrast  to 
Jacobi.  It  became  a  fuse  for  an  explosion  which  revealed  the 
most  intimate  thoughts  of  worthy  men  and  drove  them  to  the 
fore,  revealing  conditions  v/hich  unconsciously  were  slumbering 
in  the  hearts  of  those  members  of  our  society  who  were  other- 
wise most  enlightened.'* 

The  poem  reads  as  follows : 

Zeus,  cover  thou  thy  heaven  [Bedecke  deinen  Himmel.  Zeus, 

With  cloudy  mist,  Mit  Wolkendunst 

And  Hke  a  boy  Und  iibe,  dem  Knaben  gleich, 

That  chops  off  thistles,  Der  Disteln  kopft. 

Exercise  thy  strength  An  Eichen  dich  und  Bergeshohn! 

On  oaks  and  mountain  peaks.  IMusst  mir  meine  Erde 

Yet  must  thou  leave  me  Doch  lassen  stehn, 

The  earth  where  standeth  Und  meine  Hiitte,  die  du  nicht  gebaut, 

My  hut,  which  was  not  built  by  thee ;       Und  meinen  Herd, 

In  it  my  hearth,  Um  dessen  Gluth 

Whose  cheerful  flame  Du  mich  beneidest. 

Evokes  thy  envy. 

Naught  do  I  know  more  wretched  ich  kenne  nichts  Aermeres 

In  all  the  world,  than  you,  ye  gods,       Unter  der  Sonn',  als  euch,  Gotter! 


202 


GOETHE. 


So  miserably 

With  all  your  majesty, 

Ye  eke  out  your  existence 

By  sacrifice 

And  mumbled  prayer. 

In  sooth,  ye'd  starve 

Were  not  children  and  beggars 

Your  hope-deluded  dupes. 


Ihr  nahret  kiimmerlich 
Von  Opfersteuern 
Und  Gebetshauch 
Eure  Majestat, 
Und  darbtet,  waren 
Nicht  Kinder  und  Bettler 
Hoffnungsvolle  Thoren. 


When  I  was  still  a  child 
And  knew  not  where  to  turn, 
Mine  eye  strayed  heavenward 
To  the  sun,  as  if  above  there  were 
An  ear  listening  to  my  complaint, 
A  heart  like  mine 
Feeling  the  dint  of  pity 
For  a  troubled  soul. 


Da  ich  ein  Kind  war, 

Nicht  wusste  wo  aus  noch  ein, 

Kehrt'  ich  mein  verirrtes  Auge 

Zur  Sonne,  als  wenn  driiber  war' 

Ein  Ohr,  zu  horen  meine  Klage, 

Ein  Herz,  wie  meins, 

Sich  des  Bcdrangten  zu  erbarmen. 


Who  helped  me 

Against  the  Titans'  insolence? 

Who  rescued  me  from  death, 

From  slavery? 

Didst  not  thyself  accomplish  all, 

O  holy,  glowing  heart, 

Deluded  in  thy  youthful  goodness. 

Still  glowing  gratitude 

Unto  the  slumbering  god  above? 


Wer  half  mir 

Wider  der  Titanen  Uebermuth? 

Wer  rettete  vom  Tode  mich. 

Von  Sklaverei? 

Hast  du  nicht  Alles  selbst  vollendet, 

Heilig  gliihend  Herz, 

Und  gliihtest  jung  und  gut, 

Betrogen,  Rettungsdank 

Dem  Schlafenden  da  droben? 


Shall  I  yet  honor  thee?    For  what? 

Didst  thou  ever  assuage  the  pangs 

Of  the  sorrow-laden? 

Hast  thou  e'er  dried  the  tears 

Of  souls  in  anguish? 

Has  not  my  manhood  been  wrought 

in  the  forge 
Of  omnipotent  Time 
And  of  Fate, 
My  masters  and  thine? 


Ich  dich  ehren?     Wofiir? 

Hast  du  die  Schmerzen  gelindert 

Je  des  Bekidenen? 

Hast  du  die  Thranen  gestillet 

Je  des  Geangsteten? 

Hat  nicht  mich  zum  Manne  geschmie- 

det 
Die  allmachtige  Zeit 
Und  das  ewige  Schicksal, 
Meine  Herren  und  deine? 


Thinkest  thou 

That  I  should  hate  life 

And  fly  into  deserts. 

Because  not  all 

My  blossoming  dreams 

Riped  into  fruit? 

Here  am  I,  moulding  men 
After  my  image, 
A  race  like  mine 


Wahntest  du  etwa, 

Ich  sollte  das  Leben  hassen, 

In  Wiisten  fliehen, 

Weil  nicht  alle 

Bluthentraume  reiften? 


Hier  sitz'  ich,  forme  Menschen 

Nach  meinem  Bilde, 

Ein  Geschlecht,  das  mir  gleich  sei, 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


203 


To  suffer,  to  weep, 
And  to  enjoy  life; — 
And  to  disdain  thee 
As  I  do. 


Zu  leiden,  zu  weinen, 
Zu  geniessen  und  zu  freuen  sich, 
Und  dein  nicht  zu  achten, 
Wie  ich.] 


The  poem  "Ganymede"  represents  Goethe's  devotion  which, 
being  expressed  in  the  rehgious  sentiment  of  ancient  Greece, 
finds  expression  in  a  prayer  of  the  cup-bearer  of  Zeus.  It  reads 
as  follows : 


In  glitter  of  morning 

Thou  glowest  around  me, 

Spring,  thou  beloved ! 

With  thousandfold  passionate  rapture 

All  my  heart  thrills 

To  the  touch  divine 

Of  thine  ardor  undying. 

Ambrosial  Beauty! 

Oh !  that  I  might  enfold 

Thee  in  this  arm ! 

Alas  !  on  th}-  bosom 

Rest  I,  and  languish, 

And  thy  flowers  and  thy  grass 

Are  pressed  to  my  heart. 

Thou  coolest  the  burning 

Thirst  of  my  bosom, 

Morning  wind  exquisite ! 

Softly  the"°nightingale 

Calls  to  me  out  of  the  misty  vale. 

I  come  !  I  am  coming  ! 


Whither?  Ah!  whither? 

Upward  the  effort ! 

The  clouds  they  are  floating 

Downwards,  the  white  clouds 

Bow  down  to  the  longing  of  love. 

To  me!  Me! 

In  your  lap  float  me 

Aloft 

Embraced  and  embracing ! 

Aloft  to  thy  bosom, 

All-loving  Father!" 

— Tr.  by  William  Gibson. 


[Wie  im  Morgenglanze 

Du  rings  mich  angliihst, 

Friihling,  Geliebter ! 

Mit  tausendfacher  Liebeswonne 

Sich  an  mein  Herz  drangt 

Deiner  ewigen  Warme 

Heilig  Gefiihl, 

Unendliche  Schone ! 

Dass  ich  dich  fassen  mocht' 

In  diesen  Arm ! 

Ach,  an  deinem  Busen 

Lieg'  ich,  schmachte, 

Und  deine  Blumen,  dein  Gras, 

Drangen  sich  an  mein  Herz, 

Du  kiihlst  den  brennenden 

Durst  meines  Busens, 

Lieblicher  Morgenwind ! 

Ruft  drein  die  Nachtigall 

Liebend  nach  mir  aus  dem  Nebelthal. 

Ich  komm,'  ich  komme ! 

Wohin?    Ach,  wohin? 

Hinauf !     Hinauf  strebt's. 

Es  schweben  die  Wolken 

Abwarts,  die  Wolken 

Neigen  sich  der  sehnenden  Liebe. 

Mir !     Mir ! 

In  euerm  Schoosse 

Aufwarts ! 

Umfangend  umfangen! 

Aufwarts  an  deinen  Busen, 

Allliebender  Vater!] 


It  was  Goethe's  intention  to  offset  'Trometheus"  by  ''Gany- 
mede," but  it  seems  to  us  that  he  succeeded  better  in  describing 


204 


GOETHE. 


religious  devotion  in  two  others  of  his  dithyrambic  poems,  en- 
titled ''The  Limitations  of  Mankind,"  and  'The  Divine." 

In  all  these  poems,  as  well  as  in  "Prometheus,"  Goethe  speaks 
as  a  believer  in  the  Greek  world-conception,  and  so  the  divine 
order  is  conceived  as  a  polytheistic  monotheism,  the  divinities 
being  represented  by  the  celestials — "the  higher  beings  whom  we 
revere" — among  whom  Zeus  is  the  omnipotent,  all-embracing 
father.     The  poem  "The  Divine"  reads  as  follows: 


Man  must  be  noble, 
Helpful  and  good ! 
For  this  alone 
Distinguishes  him 
From  all  things 
Within  our  ken. 


[Edel  sei  der  Mensch, 
Hiilfreich  und  gut ! 
Denn  das  allein 
Unterscheidet  ihn 
Von  alien  Wesen, 
Die  wir  kennen. 


Hail  to  the  unknown 
Higher  presences 
Whom  we  divine : 
May  man  be  like  them, 
And  his  conduct  teach  us 
To  meet  them  in  faith. 


Heil  den  unbekannten 

Hohern  Wesen, 

Die  wir  ahnen ! 

Ihnen   gleiche   der   Mensch, 

Sein  Beispiel  lehr'  uns 

Jene  glauben. 


Nature  around  us 

Is  without  feeling : 

The  sun  sheds  his  light 

On  the  good  and  the  evil ; 

The  moon  and  the  stars  shine 

Upon  the  guilty 

As  well  as  the  upright. 


Denn  unfiihlend 

Tst  die  Natur : 

Es  leuchtet  die  Sonne 

Ueber  Bos'  und  Gute, 

Und  dem  Verbrecher 

Glanzen,  wie  dem  Besten, 

Der  Mond  und  die  Sterne. 


Storms  and  torrents, 
Hail  and  thunder. 
Roar  their  course. 
Seizing  and  taking 
All  things  before  them, 
One  after  another. 


Wind  und  Strome, 
Donner  und  Hagel 
Rauschen  ihren  Weg, 
Und  ergreifen, 
Voriibereilend, 
Einen  um  den  Andern. 


Thus  also  Fortune 
Gropes  'mid  the  crowd, 
Now  seizing  the  schoolboy's 
Curly  innocence, 
Now,  too,  the  gray  crown 
Of  aged  guilt. 


Audi  so  das  Gliick 
Tappt  unter  die  Menge, 
Fasst  bald  des  Knaben 
Lockige  Unschuld, 
Bald  auch  den  kahlen 
Schuldigen  Scheitel. 


Eternal  and  iron-clad 
Are  nature's  great  laws 


Nach  ewigen,  ehrnen, 
Grossen  Gesetzen 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


20S 


By  which  all  things 
Must  run  and  complete 
The  course  of  existence. 

But  man   can   accomplish, — 
Man  alone, — the  impossible ; 
He  discriminates, 
Chooses  and  judges; 
To  the  fleeting  moment 
He  giveth  duration. 

His  alone  it  is, 
To  reward  the  good. 
To  punish  the  wicked, 
To  save  and  to  rescue. 
To  dispose  with  foresight 
The  erring,  the  straying. 

And  we  revere 
The  great  immortals 
As  if  they  were  men, 
Doing  in  great  things 
What  in  the  lesser 
The  best  one  of  mortals 
Does  or  would  fain  do. 

Let  the  noble  man 

Be  helpful  and  good. 

Untiringly  do 

What  is  useful  and  just! 

Be  an  example 

Of  those  presences 

Whom  we  divine. 


Miissen  wir  Alle 
Unseres  Daseins 
Kreise  vollenden. 

Nur  allein  der  Mensch 
Vermag  das  UnmogHche ; 
Er  unterscheidet, 
Wahlet  und  richtet ; 
Er  kann  dem  Augenblick 
Dauer  verleihen. 

Er  allein  darf 

Den  Guten  lohnen. 

Den  Bosen  strafen, 

Heilen  und  retten, 

Alles   Irrende,   Schweifende 

Niitzlich  verbinden. 

Und  wir  verehren 

Die  Unsterblichen, 

Als  waren  sie  Menschen, 

Thaten  im  Grossen, 

Was  der  Beste  im  Kleinen 

Thut  oder  mochte. 


Der  edle  Mensch 
Sei  hiilfreich  und  gut! 
Unermiidet  schaff'  er 
Das  Niitzliche,  Rechte, 
Sei  uns  ein  Vorbild 
Jener  geahneten  Wesen ! 


Goethe  was  by  nature  devout.  He  declared  that  ''only  re- 
ligious men  can  be  creative,"^  and  so  it  was  natural  that  he  gave 
repeated  expression  to  his  faith.  The  same  sentiment  of  pious 
submission  to  the  Divine,  to  God,  to  Father  Zeus,  or  whatever 
we  may  call  the  Divinity  that  sways  the  fate  of  the  world,  is  also 
set  forth  in  'The  Limitations  of  Mankind,"  written  in  1781, 
which  reads  as  follows : 


When  the  primeval 
Heavenly  Father 
With   hand   indifferent 
Out  of  dark-rolling  clouds 
Scatters  hot  lightenings 


[Wenn  der  uralte 
Heilige  Vater 
Mit  gelassener  Hand 
Aus  rollenden  Wolken 
Sengende  Blitze 


In  a  letter  addressed  to  Riemer,  of  March  26,  1820. 


206 


GOETHE. 


Over  the  earth, 
Kiss  I  the  lowest 
Hem  of  His  garment, 
KneeHng  before  Him 
In  childHke  trust. 


Ueber  die  Erde  sa't, 
Kiiss'  ich  den  letzten 
Saum  seines  Kleides, 
Kindliche  Schauer 
Treu  in  der  Brust. 


For  with  the  gods 

No  mortal  may  ever 

Himself  compare. 

Should  he  be  lifted 

Up,  till  he  touches 

The  stars  with  his  forehead, 

No  resting-place  findeth 

He  for  his  feet, 

Becoming  a  plaything 

Of  clouds  and  winds. 


Denn  mit  Gottern 
Soil  sich  nicht  messen 
Irgend  ein  Mensch. 
Hebt  er  sich  aufwarts, 
Und  beriihrt 

Mit  dem  Scheitel  die  Sterne, 
Nirgends  haften  dann 
Die  unsichern  Sohlen, 
Und  mit  ihm  spielen 
Wolken  und  Winde. 


Stands  he  with  strong-knit 

Marrowy  bone 

On  the  firmly  founded 

Enduring  Earth, 

Not  high  enough 

Does  he  reach, 

Merely  to  measure, 

With  oaks  or  vines. 


Steht  er  mit  festen 
Markigen  Knochen 
Auf  der  wohlgegriindeten, 
Dauernden  Erde; 
Reicht  er  nicht  auf, 
Nur  mit  der  Eiche 
Oder  der  Rebe 
Sich  zu  vergleichen. 


What  distinguisheth 
Celestials  from  mortals? 
There  are  many  billows 
Before  them  rolling, 
A  stream  unending : 
We  rise  with  a  billow, 
Collapse  with  a  billow, 
And  we  are  gone. 


Was  unterscheidet 
Gotter  von  Menschen? 
Dass  viele  Wellen 
Vor  jenen  wandeln, 
Ein  ewiger  Strom: 
Uns  hebt  die  Welle, 
Verschlingt  die  Welle, 
Und  wir  versinken. 


A  little  ring 
Encircles  our  life. 
And  on  it  are  linked 
Generations  to  come, 
In  the  infinite  chain 
Of  their  existence. 


Ein  kleiner  Ring 
Begrenzt  unser  Leben, 
Und  viele  Geschlechter 
Reihen  sich  dauernd 
An  ihres  Daseins 
Unendliche  Kette.] 


The  contrast  between  these  two  kinds  of  poems,  on  the  one 
hand  'Trometheus"  and  on  the  other  hand  ''Ganymede,"  "The 
Divine"  and  'The  Limitations  of  Mankind,"  is  almost  a  contra- 
diction.   Prometheus  is  the  rebel  who  defies  Zeus,  while  the  other 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  207 

poems  exhibit  piety,  reverence,  devotion  for  and  love  of  the 
divine,  whether  gods,  angels,  or  saints,  having  Zeus  or  God  as 
the  loving  All-Father. 

Goethe  is  convinced  that  both  standpoints  are  justifiable  and 
that  both  are  needed  in  the  development  of  mankind.  Man  is 
sometimes  obliged  to  rebel  against  the  conditions  that  would 
dwarf  him  and  hinder  the  growth  of  his  individuality;  he  must 
be  a  fighter  even  against  the  gods,  and  in  his  struggle  he  must 
prove  strong  and  unyielding,  hard  and  unmovable,  and  yet  such 
a  disposition  should  not  be  a  permanent  trait  of  his  character. 
The  humanity  of  man  teaches  him  to  be  tender  and  pliable,  to  be 
full  of  concession  and  compromise.  It  may  be  difficult  to  com- 
bine these  two  opposite  qualities,  but  it  is  certain  that  in  order  to 
be  human  and  humane  man  stands  in  need  of  both.  Man  must 
be  courageous  and  warlike  and  at  the  same  time  kind-hearted 
and  a  peace-maker.  He  must  be  animated  with  the  spirit  of 
independence,  and  yet  possess  a  spirit  of  reverence  and  regard 
for  order.  He  must  be  a  doubter  and  yet  have  faith.  He  must 
be  a  Titan,  a  rebel,  an  iconoclast,  perhaps  even  an  atheist,  and  yet 
he  must  be  devout  and  filled  with  love  of  God. 

There  was  something  of  the  nature  of  both  Ganymede  and 
Prometheus  in  Goethe. 

Goethe  was  too  broad  to  be  either  a  Christian  or  an  anti- 
Christian.  He  was  both,  and  the  Christians  in  his  time,  too 
narrow  to  understand  his  position,  called  him  a  pagan.  Goethe 
was  sufficiently  clear-sighted  to  see  that  they  were  Christians  in 
name  only,  and  that  in  spite  of  his  unbelief  he  himself  was  a 
better  Christian  than  they.  He  said :  "Who  to-day  is  such  a 
Christian  as  Christ  would  have  him?  Perhaps  I  am  the  only 
one,  although  you  consider  me  a  heathen." 

Goethe  was  sometimes  a  pantheist  after  the  heart  of  Spinoza, 
and,  as  he  himself  said,  sometimes  a  polytheist  who  found  the 
most  perfect  exposition  of  his  religious  views  in  Greek  mythol- 
ogy; again  he  was  a  Christian  and  a  theist.  To  be  sure  he  did 
not  believe  in  the  gods  of  Greece  in  the  crude  sense  of  paganism 
or  idolatry,  but  he  recognized  their  presence  in  life  after  the 
fashion  of  Greek  sages,  or  perhaps  better,  of  modern  naturalists, 


208  GOETHE. 

conceiving  the  gods  as  factors  that  shape  our  hves.     Goethe  him- 
self calls  them  ''blissfully  creating  forces.'"^ 

Goethe's  religious  attitude  has  mostly  been  misunderstood. 
Though  he  gave  ample  evidence  of  his  sympathy  with  Christian 
sentiment,  he  was  not  a  Christian  in  the  narrow  sense  of  the 
word.  To  him  Christianity  was  one  form  of  religion  like  others, 
and  he  attributed  greater  importance  to  polytheism  on  account 
of  its  creative  and  artistic  tendencies  than  to  any  doctrine  of 
monotheism.  Goethe  had  no  objection  to  Christianity  itself,  but 
in  his  Christian  friends  he  denounced  the  narrow  spirit  which 
would  brook  no  other  religions  and  would  condemn  as  an  object 
of  abomination  any  different  attempt  at  comprehending  the 
divine.  The  Christian  God-conception  was  to  him  one  aspect 
only  which  needed  correction  by  considering  the  truth  of  the 
pagan  view,  and,  argued  Goethe,  is  not  the  Christian  view  after 
all  quite  abstract  and  imaginary  in  comparison  to  the  concrete 
figures  of  the  Olympian  pantheon?  If  God  is  a  spirit,  his  ex- 
istence must  be  purely  spiritual,  i.  e.,  he  must  live  in  the  brain 
of  man, 

...."behind 
Man's  foolish  forehead,  in  his  mind." 

This  Spirit-God  would  be  subjective  and  could  not  be  found 
outside  in  nature,  in  the  concrete  world  of  objective  existence. 

This  idea  is  expressed  in  the  poem  ''Great  is  Diana  of  the 
Ephesians,"  in  which  the  artist's  attitude  represents  Goethe's 
own  sentiment.  The  artist  chisels  his  ideal,  the  great  goddess  of 
the  Ephesians,  while  Paul  is  preaching  against  idols. 

GREAT  IS  DIANA  OF  THE  EPHESIANS. 
(Acts  xix.  28.) 

At  Ephesus  in  his  workshop  sat 

A  goldsmith,  filing  and  beating 
A  golden  statue;  he  wrought  thereat, 

Still  improving  and  further  completing. 
As  boy  and  as  youth  at  the  goddess's  shrine, 
He  had  knelt  and  adored  her  form  so  divine ; 
Below  the  girdle  there  under  her  breast, 
He  saw  so  many  creatures  rest, 
And  faithfully  at  home  had  wrought 

^Selig  mit  s  chaff  end  e  Krdfte.     "Unterhaltung  mit  Falk,"  January  25,  1813. 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


209 


The  image,  as  his  father  taught. 

So  did  the  artist  with  skill  and  patience 

Conduct  his  life  and  art  aspirations. 


■T.T,>7>',  M  //, 


DIANA  OF  THE  EPHESIANS. 
And  once  he  heard  a  raging  crowd 
Howl  through  the  streets,  and  clamor  loud 
That  somewhere  existed  a  God  behind 


210  GOETHE. 

Man's  foolish  forehead  in  his  mind, 

And  that  He  was  greater  and  loftier  too, 

Than  the  breadth  and  the  depth  of  the  gods  he  knew. 

The  artist  scarce  noted  the  words  of  the  throng, — 

He  let  his  prentice  boy  run  along, 

But  he  himself  continued  to  file 

The  stags  of  Diana  without  guile, 

Hoping  that  worthily  and  with  grace 

He  might  succeed  to  chisel  her  face. 

Should  any  one  hold  a  different  view, 

He  may  in  all  as  he  pleases  do; 

But  the  craft  of  the  master  he  must  not  despise, 

For  he  in  disgrace  will  end  otherwise. 

[Zu  Ephesus  ein  Goldschmied  sass 

In  seiner  Werkstatt,  pochte, 

So  gut  er  konnt',  ohn'  Unterlass, 

So  zierlich  er's  vermochte. 

Als  Knab'  und  Jungling  kniet'  er  schon 

Im  Tempel  vor  der  Gottin  Thron, 

Und  hatte  den  Giirtel  unter  den  Brusten, 

Worin  so  manche  Thiere  nisten, 

Zu  Hause  treulich  nachgefeilt, 

Wie's  ihm  der  Vater  zugetheilt ; 

Und  leitete  sein  kunstreich  Streben 

In  frommer  Wirkung  durch  das  Leben. 

Da  hort  er  denn  auf  einmal  laut 
Eines  Gassenvolkes  Windesbraut, 
Als  gab's  einen  Gott  so  im  Gehirn, 
Da  hinter  des  Menschen  alberner  Stirn, 
Der  sei  viel  herrlicher  als  das  Wesen, 
An  dem  wir  die  Breite  der  Gottheit  lesen. 

Der  alte  Kiinstler  horcht  nur  auf, 

Lasst  seinen  Knaben  auf  den  Markt  den  Lauf, 

Feilt  immer  fort  an  Hirschen  und  Thieren, 

Die  seiner  Gottheit  Kniee  zieren; 

Und  hofft,  es  konnte  das  Gliick  ihm  walten, 

Ihr  Angesicht  wiirdig  zu  gestalten. 

Will's  aber  Einer  anders  halten, 

So  mag  er  nach  Belieben  schalten; 

Nur  soil  er  nicht  das  Handwerk  schanden; 

Sonst  wird  er  schlecht  und  schmahlich  enden.] 

With  reference  to  this  poem  Goethe  writes  to  Jacobi  (March 
10,  1812)  : 

"1  am  indeed  one  of  the  Ephesian  artists  who  spends  his 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  211 

whole  life  in  the  temple  of  the  goddess,  contemplating  and  won- 
dering and  worshiping,  and  representing  her  in  her  mysterious 
manifestations.  Thus  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  be  pleased  with  an 
apostle  Avho  forces  upon  his  fellow  citizens  another  and  indeed 
a  formless  god.  Accordingly  if  I  were  to  publish  some  similar 
writing  (to  Jacobi's  book  On  God)  in  praise  of  the  great  Ar- 
temis— which,  however,  I  will  not  do  because  I  belong  to  those 
who  prefer  to  live  quietly  and  do  not  care  to  stir  people  to 
mutiny — I  would  write  on  the  reverse  of  the  title  page:  'No  one 
can  become  acquainted  with  what  he  does  not  love,  and  the 
more  perfect  our  knowledge,  the  stronger,  the  more  vigorous, 
and  the  more  vital  must  be  our  love,  yea,  our  passion."^ 

Goethe  mentions  his  love  of  polytheism  in  his  autobiography 
when  speaking  of  the  poem  ''Prometheus."     He  says: 

"The  Titans  are  the  foil  of  polytheism,  as  the  devil  is  the  foil 
of  monotheism,  but  neither  the  devil  nor  the  one-sided  God 
whom  the  devil  opposed  are  striking  figures.  Milton's  Satan, 
although  he  is  characterized  as  goody-goody  enough,^  labors 
under  the  disadvantage  of  subordination  when  he  attempts  to 
destroy  the  glorious  creation  of  a  supreme  being.  Prometheus, 
however,  possesses  the  advantage  that,  in  spite  of  superior  beings, 
he  shows  himself  capable  of  creating.  Moreover,  it  is  a  beautiful 
and  poetic  thought  which  provides  that  men  be  produced  not  by 
the  highest  ruler  of  the  universe,  but  by  an  intermediate  char- 
acter who,  however,  being  a  descendant  of  the  oldest  dynasty, 
is  worthy  of  and  great  enough  for  the  task." 

Goethe  speaks  of  Satan's  "subordination,"  because  in  the 
Christian  conception  God  alone  is  sovereign,  and  Satan  lacks 
independence  and  freedom.  He  is  a  mere  puppet  in  the  hands 
of  the  Almighty,  for  even  his  revolt  is  ultimately  the  result  of 
God's  plan  of  creation. 


'Translated  by  the  author. 

A  convenient  collection  of  all  the  passages  that  have  reference  to  Goethe's 
world-conception  and  religion  is  found  in  Max  Heynacher's  book,  Goethe's 
Philosophie.    For  the  present  quotations  see  pp.  72-73. 

'Goethe  here  uses  the  word  brav,  and  I  regret  that  the  brav  genug  is 
almost  untranslatable  in  English.  The  word  brav  in  German  means  "good" 
or  "goody"  in  the  sense  of  Sunday-school  morality.  A  good  boy  is  called 
brav,  and  the  use  of  this  word  in  its  application  to  Satan  is  extremely 
humorous. 


212  GOETHE. 

Prometheus  is  not  the  only  rebel  whom  Goethe  admires.  He 
adds  further  down  in  the  same  passage : 

''The  other  heroes  of  the  same  kind,  Tantalus,  Ixion  and 
Sisyphus,  also  belonged  to  my  saints.  Having  been  received 
into  the  society  of  the  gods,  they  did  not  show  sufficient  sub- 
missiveness,  and  as  overbearing  guests  provoked  the  wrath  of 
their  condescending  hosts,  whereby  they  were  forced  into  a 
dreary  exile." 

Goethe  had  much  to  suffer  from  the  narrow  spirit  of 
the  dogmatic  Christians  among  his  contemporaries,  and  not  the 
least  irritations  consisted  in  ill-advised  attempts  at  converting 
the  ''great  pagan,"  as  he  was  called  by  pietists.  He  smiled  at 
the  impudence  and  folly  of  those  who  concerned  themselves 
about  his  future  destiny,  for  he  was  confident  that  the  cloven 
foot  of  his  paganism  would  not  render  him  unacceptable  to  God, 
the  Father  of  all  mankind,  Jew  and  Gentile.  Here  is  the  fable 
whicli  Goethe  intended  as  an  answer  to  his  Christian  friends : 

In  the  wilderness  a  holy  man 

To  his  surprise  met  a  servant  of  Pan, 

A  goat-footed  faun,  who  spoke  with  grace ; 

"Lord  pray  for  me  and  for  my  race, 

That  we  in  heaven  find  a  place : 

We  thirst  for  God's  eternal  bliss." 

The  holy  man  made  answer  to  this : 

"How  can  I  grant  thy  hold  petition, 

For  thou  canst  hardly  gain  admission 

In  heaven  yonder  where  angels  salute : 

For  lo !  thou  hast  a  cloven  foot." 

Undaunted  the  wild  man  made  the  plea  : 

"Why  should  my  hoof  offensive  be? 

I've  seen  great  numbers  that  went  straight 

With  asses'  heads  through  heaven's  gate." 

[In  der  Wiisten  ein  heiliger  Mann 
Zu  seinem  Erstaunen  that  treffen  an 
Einen  ziegenfiissigen  Faun,  der  sprach : 
"Herr,  betet  fiir  mich  und  meine  Gefahrt', 
Dass  ich  zum  Himmel  gelassen  werd', 
Zur  seligen  Freud' :  uns  diirstet  darnach." 
Der  heilige  Mann  dagegen  sprach : 
"Es  steht  mit  deiner  Bitte  gar  gefahrlich, 
Und  gewahrt  wird  sie  dir  schwerlich. 
Du  kommst  nicht  zum  englischen  Gruss : 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  213 

Denn  du  hast  einen  Ziegenfuss." 
Da  sprach  hierauf  der  wilde  Mann : 
"Was  hat  euch  mein  Ziegenfuss  gethan? 
Sah  ich  doch  Manche  strack  und  schon 
Mit  Eselskopfen  gen  Himmel  gehn."] 

Goethe  devoted  another  short  poem  to  the  pious  ass  who  in  all 
religions  will  remain  an  ass  forever.     He  says  J 

If  the  ass  that  bore  the  Saviour 

Were  to  Mecca  driven,  he 

Would  not  aher,  but  would  be 

Still  an  ass  in  his  behavior." 

— Tr.  by  Bowving. 

[Wenn  man  auch  nach  Mekka  triebe 
Christus'  Esel.  wiird'  er  nicht 
Dadurch  besser  abgericht, 
Sondern  stets  ein  Esel  bliebe.] 

Goethe  was  more  of  a  Christian  than  is  generally  assumed 
or  might  be  inferred  from  his  own  preference  for  paganism. 
To  be  sure  he  was  not  a  dogmatic  Christian  in  the  sense  in  which 
the  term  Christianity  was  used  in  those  days.  But  Goethe  would 
have  been  rejected  also  by  polytheists  and  pagans,  by  Greek  as 
well  as  Oriental  devotees,  on  account  of  his  latitudinarianism, 
for  he  was  a  sympathizer  with  all  religions  and  could  not  be 
counted  exclusively  an  adherent  of  any  special  faith. 

How  greatly  Goethe  appreciated  Christianity  appears  from 
many  poems  and  prose  passages  of  his  writings.  H  we  consider 
that  as  a  matter  of  principle  he  never  wrote  poetry  unless  he  him- 
self had  experienced  the  sentiment  he  expressed,  we  will  understand 
how  devout  he  must  have  been  in  the  days  of  his  youth  when  he 
still  accepted  the  Christian  miracles  and  mysteries  with  unques- 
tioning faith.  He  outgrew  the  childlike  confidence  in  the  super- 
natural and  lost  his  belief  in  miracles,  but  he  remembered  the 
sacredness  of  his  devotion  and  the  hours  of  pious  bliss — a 
reminiscence  well  described  in  the  first  scene  of  his  ''Faust." 
When  Faust  in  his  despair  decides  to  drink  poison,  he  is  inter- 
rupted by  the  Easter  message  of  the  angelic  choirs  and  the  ring- 
ing of  the  Easter  bells,  and  the  sweet  recollection  of  the  faith  of 
his  vouth  restores  in  him  the  love  of  life. 

What  deep  sentiment  is  also  expressed   in  the  third  scene 

'  Hikmet  Nameth,  Book  of  Proverbs. 


214  GOETHE. 

of  'Taust" !  He  has  returned  from  his  walk  with  Wagner,  his 
famukis,  and  sits  down  to  find  comfort  in  the  Gospel  of  St. 
John.  The  monologue  is  again  and  again  interrupted  by  the 
noise  of  a  poodle,  in  which  shape  Mephistopheles  approaches  him. 
The  diabolic  nature  of  the  animal  appears  in  growls  by  which 
he  expresses  his  dissatisfaction  with  Faust's  religious  sentiments. 
The  passage  reads  in  Bayard  Taylor's  translation  as  follows : 

(Faust  entering  with  poodle.) 

Behind  me,  field  and  meadow  sleeping, 
I  leave  in  deep,  prophetic  night. 
Within  whose  dread  and  holy  keeping 
The  better  soul  awakes  to  light. 
The  wild  desires  no  longer  win  us, 
The  deeds  of  passion  cease  to  chain ; 
The  love  of  Man  revives  within  us, 
The  love  of  God  revives  again. 

Be  still,  thou  poodle !  make  not  such  racket  and  riot ! 

Why  at  the  threshold  wilt  snuffing  be  ? 

Behind  the  stove  repose  thee  in  quiet! 

My  softest  cushion  I  give  to  thee. 

As  thou,  up  yonder,  with  running  and  leaping 

Amused  us  hast,  on  the  mountain's  crest. 

So  now  I  take  thee  into  my  keeping, 

A  welcome,  but  also  a  silent,  guest. 

Ah,  when,  within  our  narrow  chamber 
The  lamp  with  friendly  lustre  glows, 
Flames  in  the  breast  each  faded  ember. 
And  in  the  heart,  itself  that  knows. 
Then  Hope  again  lends  sweet  assistance. 
And  Reason  then  resumes  her  speech : 
One  yearns,  the  rivers  of  existence, 
The  very  founts  of  Life,  to  reach. 

Snarl  not,  poodle !    To  the  sound  that  rises. 

The  sacred  tones  that  now  my  soul  embrace. 

This  bestial  noise  is  out  of  place. 

We  are  used  to  see  that  Man  despises 

What  he  never  comprehends. 

And  the  Good  and  the  Beautiful  vilipends, 

Finding  them  often  hard  to  measure: 

Will  the  dog,  like  man,  snarl  his  displeasure? 

But  ah !  I  feel,  though  will  thereto  be  stronger, 
Contentment  flows  from  out  my  breast  no  longer. 
Why  must  the  stream  so  soon  run  dry  and  fail  us. 
And  burning  thirst  again  assail  us? 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE.  215 

Therein  I've  borne  so  much  probation ! 
And  yet,  this  want  may  be  supplied  us ; 
We  pine  and  thirst  for  Revelation, 

Which  nowhere  worthier  is,  more  nobly  sent, 

Than  here,  in  our  New  Testament. 

I  feel  impelled,  its  meaning  to  determine, — 

With  honest  purpose,  once  for  all, 

The  hallowed  Original 

To  change  to  my  beloved  German. 

{He  opens  a  volume  and  coin)ne)iees.) 

'T  is  written :  ''In  the  Beginning  was  the  Word." 

Here  am  I  balked :  who,  now,  can  help  afford  ? 

The  Word? — impossible  so  high  to  rate  it; 

And  otherwise  must  I  translate  it. 

If  b}^  the  Spirit  I  am  truly  taught. 

Then  thus  :  "In  the  Beginning  was  the  Thought." 

This  first  line  let  me  weigh  completely. 

Lest  my  impatient  pen  proceed  too  fleetly. 

Is  it  the  Thought  which  works,  creates,  indeed? 

"In  the  Beginning  was  the  Power"  I  read. 

Yet,  as  I  write,  a  warning  is  suggested. 

That  I  the  sense  may  not  have  fairly  tested. 

The  Spirit  aids  me :  now  I  see  the  light ! 

"In  the  Beginning  was  the  Aet;'^  I  write. 

[Verlassen  hab'  ich  Feld  und  Auen, 
Die  eine  tiefe  Nacht  bedeckt, 
Mit  ahnungsvollem,  heil'gem  Grauen 
In  uns  die  bessre  Seele  weckt. 
Entschlafen  sind  nun  wilde  Triebe 
Mit  jedem  ungestiimen  Thun ; 
Es  reget  sich  die  Menschenliebe, 
Die  Liebe  Gottes  regt  sich  nun. 

Sei  ruhig,  Pudel !     Renne  nicht  hin  und  wieder ! 
An  der  Schwelle  was  schnoperst  Du  hier? 
Lege  Dich  hinter  den  Ofen  nieder ! 
Mein  bestes  Kissen  geb'  ich  Dir. 
Wie  Du  draussen  auf  dem  bergigen  Wege 
Durch  Rennen  und  Springen  ergetzt  uns  hast, 
So  nimm  nun  auch  von  mir  die  Pflege 
Als  ein  willkommner  stiller  Gast. 

Ach,  wenn  in  unsrer  engen  Zelle 
Die  Lampe  freundlich  wieder  brennt, 
Dann  wird's  in  unserm  Busen  helle, 
Im  Herzen,  das  sich  selber  kennt. 
Vernunft  fangt  wieder  an  zu  sprechen 
Und  Hoffnung  wieder  an  zu  bllihn ; 

•  Perhaps  "Deed"  would  be  a  better  translation. 


216  GOETHE. 

Man  sehnt  sich  nach  des  Lebens  Bachen, 
Ach,  nach  des  Lebens  Quelle  bin. 

Knurre  nicht,  Pudel !  Zu  den  heiligen  Tonen, 

Die  jetzt  meine  ganze  Seel'  umfassen, 

Will  der  thierische  Laut  nicht  passen. 

Wir  sind  gewohnt,  dass  die  Menschen  verhohnen, 

Was  sie  nicht  verstehn, 

Dass  sie  vor  dem  Guten  und  Schonen, 

Das  ihnen  of  beschwerlich  ist,  murren ; 

Will  es  der  Hund,  wie  sie,  beknurren? 

Aber  ach,  schon  fiihl'  ich,  bei  dem  besten  Willen 

Befriedigung  nicht  mehr  aus  dem  Busen  quillen. 

Aber  warum  muss  der  Strom  so  bald  versiegen, 

Und  wir  wieder  im  Durste  liegen? 

Davon  hab'  ich  so  viel  Erfahrung. 

Doch  dieser  Mangel  lasst  sich  ersetzen, 

Wir  lernen  das  Ueberirdische  schatzen, 

Wir  sehnen  uns  nach  Offenbarung, 

Die  nirgends  wiird'ger  und  schoner  brennt 

Als  in  dem  Neuen  Testament. 

Mich  drangt's  den  Grnndtext  aufzuschlagen, 

Mit  redlichem  Gefiihl  einmal 

Das  heilige  Original 

In  mein  geliebtes  Deutsch  zu  iibertragcn. 

{Ev  schl'dgt  em  Voluin  anf  und  schickt  sich  an.) 

Geschrieben  steht :  "Im  Anfang  war  das  Wort  V 

Hier  stock'  ich  schon!  Wer  hilft  mir  weiter  fort? 

Ich  kann  das  Woj't  so  hoch  unmoglich  schatzen ; 

Ich  muss  es  anders  iibersetzen, 

Wenn  ich  vom  Geiste  recht  erleuchtet  bin. 

Geschrieben  steht:  "Im  Anfang  war  der  Sinn." 

Bedenke  wohl  die  erste  Zeile, 

Dass  Deine  Feder  sich  nicht  iibereile ! 

Ist  es  der  Sinn,  der  Alles  wirkt  und  schafft? 

Es  sollte  stehn  :  "Im  Anfang  war  die  Kraft !" 

Doch,  auch  indeni  ich  dieses  niederschreibe, 

Schon  warnt  mich  was,  dass  ich  dabei  nicht  bleibe. 

Mir  hilft  der  Geist !     Auf  einmal  seh'  ich  Rath 

Und  schreibe  getrost :  "Im  Anfang  war  die  ThatV] 

In  addition  to  this  scene  which  incorporates  Faust's  reminis- 
censes  of  his  former  faith,  we  will  quote  a  few  poems  and  sen- 
tences from  his  rhymed  proverbs,  which  characterize  Goethe's 
Christianity  in  his  mature  years.  Here  is  Longfellow's  transla- 
tion of  Goethe's  two  songs,  each  entitled  ''The  Wanderer's  Night 
Song." 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


217 


Thou  that  from  the  heavens  art, 
Every  pain  and  sorrow  stillest, 

And  the  doubly  wretched  heart 
Doubly  with  refreshment  fillest, 

I  am  weary  with  contending! 
Why  this  rapture  and  unrest? 

Peace  descending 

Come,  ah,  come  into  my  breast ! 


[Der  du  von  dem  Himmel  bist, 
Alles  Leid  und  Schmerzen  stillest. 
Den,  der  doppelt  elend  ist, 
Doppelt  mit  Erquickung  fullest, 
Ach,  ich  bin  des  Treibens  miide ! 
Was  soil  all  der  Schmerz  und  Lust? 
Siisser  Friede, 
Komm,  ach  komm  in  meine  Brust!] 


St|^t»<r^ ^^^*'***'   ^<^**y  * 


'k^-t^ 


7/lJh^ 


2?-^^;^., 


^  T"^. 


GOETHE'S  POEM  IN  THE  HUNTER'S  HUT 


O'er  all  the  hill-tops 

Is  quiet  now, 
In  all  the  tree-tops 

Hearest  thou 
Hardly  a  breath ; 

The  birds  are  asleep  in  the  trees  : 

Wait :  soon  like  these 
Thou,  too,  shalt  rest. 


[Ueber  alien  Gipfeln 

Ist  Ruh, 

In  alien  Wipfeln 

Spiirest  du 

Kaum  einen  Hauch ; 

Die  Vogelein  schweigen  im  Walde. 

Warte  nur,  balde 

Ruhest  du  auch.] 


The  second  of  these  songs  Goethe  composed  in  the  night  of 
September  6-7,  1780,  and  wrote  on  the  wall  of  the  little  wooden 
hut  on  the  peak  of  the  Gickelhahn  near  Ilmenau.  The  hand- 
writing was  renewed  by  himself  August  27,  1813.  The  hut 
burned  down  August  11,  1870. 

This  sons:  of  the  Gickelhahn  hut  is  familiar  to  all  lovers  of 


218 


GOETHE. 


music.  Various  English  translations  have  been  made,  though 
Longfellow's  is  perhaps  the  most  familiar.  In  its  sweet  sim- 
plicity  the   song  is   almost   untranslatable.      We   add   herewith 


GOETHE  ON  THE  GICKELHAHN. 

another  attempt  which  has  the  advantage  of  fitting  the  music 
of  Schubert: 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


219 


Over  all  the  mountains 

Lies  peace. 
Hushed  are  the  tree-tops ; 

Breezes  cease 


Slumber  caressed. 
Asleep  are  the  birds  on  the  bough, 
Wait  then,  and  thou 

Soon  too  wilt  rest. 


THE  HUNTER'S  HUT  ON  THE  GICKELHAHN  NEAR  ILMENAU. 

After  a  photograph. 

Under  the  title  ''God,  Sentiment  and  the  World"^  Goethe 
pubhshed  some  rhymes  which  breathe  a  simple  and  ahnost  child- 
like confidence  in  God.     One  of  them  reads  :^^ 

'  Gott,  Gemiith  und  Welt. 

"  Bowring's  translation, 

"Who  trusts  in  God, 
Fears  not  his  rod," 
is  perhaps  better  English,  but  does  not  render  the  original. 


220 


GOETHE. 


Who  on  God  is  grounded, 
Has  his  house  well  founded. 


[Wer  Gott  vertraut, 
1st  schon  auferbaut.] 


Another  rhyme  is  translated  by  Bowring  thus 


This  truth  may  be  b}-  all  believed ! 
Whom  God  deceives,  is  well  deceived. 


[Sogar  dies  Wort  hat  nicht  gelogen : 
Wen  Gott  betriigt,   der  ist  wohl  be- 
trogen.] 


Goethe  was  one  of  the  few  poets  who  dared  to  introduce  the 
Good  Lord  upon  the  stage,  which  he  did  in  the  Prologue  to 
"Faust."  This  remarkable  scene  reveals  before  our  eyes  the 
heavens  where  God  is  enthroned  among  the  angels  that  appear 
before  him  in  praise  of  his  creation.  There  has  scarcely  been  in 
Christian  literature  a  more  dignified  description  of  God  in  poet- 
ical form,  over  which  even  Milton  can  not  claim  superiority. 

The  Lord  is  greeted  by  the  three  archangels  in  these  three 
stanzas  which  we  quote  after  Bayard  Taylor's  translation: 


RAPHAEL. 

The  sun-orb  sings,  in  emulation, 
'Mid    brother-spheres,    his    ancient 

round : 
His  path  predestined  through  Creation 
He  ends  with  step  of  thunder-sound. 
The  angels  from  his  visage  splendid 
Draw  power,  whose  measure  none  can 

say; 
The  lofty  works,  uncomprehended. 
Are  bright  as  on  the  primal  day. 

GABRIEL. 

And  swift,  and  swift  beyond  conceiv- 
ing, 
The  splendor  of  the  w^orld  goes  round, 
Day's  Eden-brightness  still  relieving 
Night's  darkness  awful  and  profound  : 
The  ocean-tides  in  foam  are  breaking, 
Against  the  rocks'  deep  bases  hurled, 
And  both,  the  spheric  race  partaking. 
Eternal,  swift,  are  onward  whirled ! 

MICHAEL. 

And  rival  storms  abroad  are  surging 
From  sea  to  land,  from  land  to  sea. 


RAl'HAEL. 

[Die  Sonne  tout  nach  alter  Weise 
In    Bruderspharen    Weettgesang, 
Und  ihre  vorgeschriebne  Reise 
Vollendet  sie  mit  Donnergang. 
Ihr  Anblick  giebt  den  Engeln  Starke, 
Wenn  Keiner  sie  ergriinden  mag ; 
Die  unbegreiflich  hohen  Werke 
Sind  herrlich  wie  am  ersten  Tag. 


GABRIEL. 

Und  schnell  und  unbegreiflich  schnelle 
Dreht  sich  umher  der  Erde  Pracht; 
Es  wechselt  Paradieseshelle 
Mit  tiefer,   schauervoller  Nacht ; 
Es   schaumt  das   Meer  in  breiten 

FliJssen 
Am  tiefen  Grund  der  Felsen  auf, 
Und  Eels  und  Meer  wird  fortgerissen 
In  ewig  schnellem  Spharenlauf. 

MICHAEL. 

Und  Stiirme  brausen  um  die  Wette, 
Vom  Meer  aufs  Land,  vom  Land  aufs 
Meer, 


THE   RELIGION    OF    GOETHE. 


221 


A  chain  of  deepest  action  forging 
Round  all,  in  wrathful  energy. 
There  flames  a  desolation,  blazing 
Before  the  Thunder's  crashing  way : 
Yet,  Lord,  Thy  messengers  are  prais- 
ing 
-  The  gentle  movement  of  Thy  Day. 

THE   THREE. 

Though  still  by  them  uncomprehended. 
From  these  the  angels   draw  their 

power, 
And   all    Thy   works    are   grand   and 

splendid, 
As  in  Creation's  primal  hour. 


Und  bilden  wiithend  eine  Kette 
Der  tiefsten  Wirkung  rings  umher; 
Da  flammt  ein  blitzendes  Verheeren 
Dem   Pfade  vor   des   Donnerschlags ; 
Doch  Deine  Boten,  Herr,  verehren 
Das  sanfte  Wandeln  Deines  Tags. 


ZU    DREI. 

Der  Anblick  giebt  den  Engeln  Starke, 
Da  Keiner  Dich  ergriinden  mag, 
Und  alle  Deine  hohen  Werke 
Sind  herrlich  wie  am  ersten  Tag.] 


Bayard  Taylor  is  a  translator  by  God's  grace,  nevertheless 
his  version  of  these  lines  does  not  render  either  the  depth  of 
sentiment  nor  the  beauty  of  the  German  original.  Goethe's  lan- 
guage is  inimitable  in  its  directness,  its  simplicity  and  grandeur. 
Only  a  man  of  truly  religious  temperament  could  think  these 
thoughts  and  express  them  in  words  so  magnificent  and  yet  so 
simple  and  unassuming. 


GOETHE'S  PHILOSOPHY. 

GOETHE  was  not  a  philosopher,  still  less  a  psychologist, 
but  none  the  less  was  he  a  thinker.  First  he  was  a  poet, 
and  though  his  poetry  was  philosophical,  he  cared  little  for  phi- 
losophy and  had  a  positive  dislike  for  analytical  and  critical  in- 
vestigations. So  it  happened  that  in  spite  of  the  philosophical 
trend  of  Goethe's  poetry,  we  find  no  satisfactory  explanation  of 
his  thoughts,  and  this  we  feel  most  concerning  his  notions  of 
the  deity  and  man's  soul.  Goethe  clung  to  the  conclusions 
which  were  forced  upon  him  by  the  needs  of  his  heart  and  in- 
tellect, but  he  did  not  venture  into  dialectics.  Thus  he  was  at 
once  a  pagan  and  a  Christian,  an  infidel  and  a  believer.  Being 
strong  in  his  convictions  himself  he  had  an  intense  dislike  of 
all  negativism,  and  while  he  attacked  Christian  pietists  for  their 
antagonism  to  Greek  mythology,  he  defended  the  Christian 
Gospels  against  higher  criticism.  All  this  seems  contradictory, 
but  it  is  not,  and  he  who  is  familiar  with  Goethe's  way  of 
thinking  will  understand  that  in  all  this  he  is  perfectly  consistent 
with  himself. 

Goethe  loved  to  represent  his  own  views  in  contrasts,  taking 
up  first  one  standpoint  and  meeting  it  by  its  contrary  so  as  to 
avoid  a  one-sided  partisan  conception.  The  poet  might  truly 
have  applied  Faust's  words  to  himself,  ''Two  souls,  alas!  dwell 
in  my  breast."  How  clearly  Goethe  was  conscious  of  this  con- 
trast within  his  own  nature  appears  from  a  later  poem  addressed 
to  the  two-lobed  leaf  of  an  Oriental  tree  called  Gingo  Biloba,i 
which  he  had  planted  in  his  garden  at  Weimar.     Goethe  says : 

'According  to  botanists  the  gingo  tree  belongs  to  an  antediluvian  flora. 
(See  Dr.  H.  Potonie's  statement  in  Weltall  und  Menschheit,  II,  396).  Being 
one  of  the  few  plants  that  have  been  saved  from  extinction  by  some  good 
fortune,  it  is  raised  in  China  and  Japan  by  artificial  methods  only  and  is  no 


GOETHE  S  PHILOSOPHY. 


223 


Leaf  of  Eastern  tree  transplanted 
Here  into  my  garden's  field, 
Hast  me  secret  meaning  granted, 
Which  adepts  delight  will  yield. 

Art  thou  one — one  living  being 
Now  divided  into  two? 
Art  thou  two,  who  joined  agreeing 
And  in  one  united  grew? 

To  the  question,  pondered  duly, 
Have  I  found  the  right  reply : 
In  my  poems  you  see  truly 
Twofold  and  yet  one  am  I. 


[Dieses  Baums  Blatt,  der  von  Osten 
Meinem  Garten  anvertraut, 
Giebt  geheimen  Sinn  zu  kosten, 
Wie's  den  Wissenden  erbaut. 

1st  es  Ein  lebendig  Wesen, 
Das  sich  in  sich  selbst  getrennt? 
Sind  es  zwei,  die  sich  erlesen, 
Dass  man  sie  als  Eines  kennt? 

Solche  Frage  zu  erwidern, 
Fand  ich  wohl  den  rechten  Sinn; 
Fiihlst  du  nicht  an  meinen  Liedern, 
Dass  ich  eins  und  doppelt  bin?] 


LEAF  FROM  GOETHE'S  GINGO  TREE. 

Reproduced  from  a  pressed  leaf  sent  to  the  author  as  a  souvenir  from 
Weimar  by   Professor   Hatfield   of   Northwestern   University. 

On   this   idea   of   a   splitting   up,    which   however   is   not   a 
division,  we  quote  another  of  Goethe's  poems : 


Life  I  never  can  divide. 
Inner  and  outer  together  you  see. 
Whole  to  all  I  must  abide, 
Otherwise  I  cannot  be. 
Always  I  have  only  writ 
What  I  feel  and  mean  to  say. 
Thus,  my  friends,  although  I  split, 
Yet  remain  I  one  alway. 


[Theilen  kann  ich  nicht  das  Leben, 
Nicht  das  Innen  noch  das  Aussen. 
Allen  muss  das  Ganze  geben, 
Um  mit  euch  und  mir  zu  hausen. 
Immer  hab  ich  nur  geschrieben 
Wie  ich  fiihle,  wie  ich's  meine, 
Und  so  spalt  ich  mich,  ihr  Lieben, 
Und  bin  immerfort  der  Fine.] 


Goethe  had  a  disHke  for  abstract  considerations.     He  was 


longer  found  in  its  natural  state.    In  Japan  the  gingo  is  regarded  as  a  sacred 
tree,  which  explains  its  presence  in  the  temples. 


224 


GOETHE. 


too  much  of  a  poet  and  liked  to  think  even  spiritual  truths  in 
such  a  way  as  to  let  them  assume  a  definite  and  concrete  shape. 
He  was  too  human  not  to  prefer  the  sense-perceptible  image 
which  is  palpable,  to  the  formula  which  is  general  and  devoid 
of  all  tangible  elements,  and  so  if  certain  views  became  too 
abstract  for  him  he  clothed  them  in  poetical  allegories. 

Goethe  sketches  his  view  of  the  soul  in  a  fascinating  poem, 
in  which  the  explanation  of  its  ascent  to  heaven  and  its  descent 
to  earth,  in  the  sense  of  reincarnation,  have  to  be  taken  seriously. 
It  is  entitled  ''Song  of  the  Spirits  Over  the  Waters,"  and  reads 
as  follows : 


The  soul  of  man 

Is  like  unto  water : 

From  heaven  it  cometh, 

To  heaven  it  riseth, 

And  down  again 

To  the  earth  descendeth, 

Ever  changing. 

Streams  from  the  lofty 

Rocky  wall 

Its  crystal  flood 

As  spray  it  drifts, 

In  wavy  clouds 

Round  slippery  cliffs, 

Below  met  sprightly, 

And  veiling  its  course, 

With  low  murmur  it  rusheth 

Deeper  and  deeper. 

Where  frowning  rocks 
Impede  the  torrent, 
Indignant  it  foams 
From  ledge  to  ledge. 
Into  the  gorge. 

In  level  meadow 
The  brook  meanders. 
And  in  the  spreading  lake 
Mirror  their  faces 
The  heavenly  stars. 

Wind  pleads  with  the  waves 
In  passionate  wooing; 
Wind  stirs  from  the  bottom 
The  foam-covered  billows. 


[Des  Menschen  Seele 
Gleicht  dem  Wasser : 
Vom  Himmel  kommt  es, 
Zuni  Himmel  steigt  es, 
Und  wieder  nieder 
Zur  Erde  muss  es, 
Ewig  wechselnd. 

Stromt  von  der  hohen 
Steilen  Felswand 
Der  reine  Strahl, 
Dann  staubt  er  lieblich 
In  Wolkenwellen 
Zuni  glatten  Eels, 
Und   leicht   empfangen 
Wallt  er  verschleiernd, 
Leisrauschend 
Zur  Tiefe  nieder. 

Ragen  Klippen 

Dem  Sturz'  entgegen, 

Schaumt  er  unmuthig 

Stufenweise 

Zum  Abgrund. 

Im  flachen  Bette 

Schleicht  er  das  Wiesenthal  hin, 

Und  in  dem  glatten  See 

Weiden  ihr  Antlitz 

Alle  Gestirne. 

Wind  ist  der  Welle 
Lieblicher  Buhler; 
Wind  mischt  vom  Grund  aus 
Schaumende  Wogen. 


Goethe's  philosophy.  225 

Soul  of  man,  Seele  des  Menschen, 

How  like  unto  water !  Wie  gleichst  du  dem  Wasser ! 

Fortune  of  man,  Schicksal  des  Menshen, 

How  like  unto  wind!  Wie  gleichst  du  dem  Wind!] 

Judging  from  Goethe's  lines  in  ''The  Limitations  of  Human- 
ity,"2 

"We  rise  with  a  billow. 
Collapse  with  a  billow, 
And  we  are  gone." 

we  might  be  led  to  think  that  the  poet  did  not  believe  in  immor- 
tality, but  such  was  not  the  case.  He  denied  immortality  in 
a  Utopian  heaven,  as  an  imaginary  state  of  bliss  where  every- 
thing would  be  perfect,  where  battles  were  no  longer  to  be  fought, 
tasks  no  more  to  be  done,  dangers  not  to  be  encountered,  and  no 
suffering  to  be  endured.  He  believed  in  activity,  in  doing  and 
daring.  He  was  a  Sadducee  (denying  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,  i.  e.,  a  resurrection  of  the  body  from  the  grave)  in  contrast 
to  the  Pharisee ;  and  scorned  the  notion  of  an  immortality  in  a 
purely  spiritual  beyond.     Goethe  says : 

A  Sadducee  I'll  be  fore'er, 

For  it  would  drive  me  to  despair, 

If  the  Philistines  who  now  cramp  me 

Would  cripple  my  eternity. 

'Twould  be  the  same  old  fiddle-faddle, 

In  heaven  we'd  have  celestial  twaddle. 

[Ein  Sadducaer  will  ich  bleiben ! — 
Das  konnte  mich  zur  Verzweiflung  treiben, 
Dass  von  dem  Volk,  das  hier  mich  bedrangt, 
Auch  wiirde  die  Ewigkeit  eingeengt : 
Das  war  doch  nur  der  alte  Patsch, 
Droben  gab's  nur  verklarten  Klatsch.] 

But  in  spite  of  siding  with  the  Sadducee  in  questions  of 
resurrection,  Goethe  cherishes  the  conviction  that  the  soul  is 
immortal,  and  he  insists  on  it  again  and  again.  We  do  not  pos- 
sess immortality,  but  we  must  earn  it.  As  Christ  expresses  it, 
we  must  lay  up  treasures  which  neither  moth  nor   rust  doth 

'  See  page  206. 


226 


GOETHE. 


corrupt  and  where  thieves  do  not  break  through  or  steal.  We 
are  tradition  and  we  Hve  on  as  tradition.  Our  own  immortali- 
zation is  the  purpose  of  our  hfe.     Goethe  says: 


Drop  all  of  transiency 
Whate'er  be  its  claim, 
Ourselves  to  immortalize, 
That  is  our  aim. 


[Nichts  vom  Verganglichen, 
Wie's  auch  geschah ! 
Uns  zu  verewigen 
Sind  wir  ja  da.] 


The  same   idea   is   expressed   in   another  poem  called   ''An 
Interlude"  which  was  set  to  music  by  J.  N.  Hummel  thus : 

Larghetto. 


1.  LaBtfah-ren  hin  das    All  -  zu- fliich-ti  -  ge ;     ihrsuchtbei 

2.  Und  so   ge-winntsich  das  Le-ben-di-gedurchFolg'aus 

3.  Solostsich   je  -  ne     gro-Be     Fra  -   ge     nachunserm 

■ft .  I     "r-  h  h/^l^J^^  R 


^M 


^y 


flis 


rm 


W 


1.  ihmver-ge-bensRat!  In  demVer-gang    -   nenlebtdas, 

2.  Fol-ge  neu-e    Kraft  ;denn  die  Ge  -  sin  -    nung,die  be- 

3.  zweiten  Va-ter- land  ;denn  das  Be-stan-digederird*schen 


I 


/A 


^ 


ji. 


i^ 


^^ 


5 


^ 


JE 


H 


f  f    ? 


t    t  t 


I. 

Tiich-ti  - 

ge, 

ver  -    e  -  wigt    sich 

in     scho-ner 

2. 

stan  -  di  - 

ge, 

sie  macht  den     Men  - 

schen  dau-er- 

3- 

Ta      - 

ge, 

ver-biirgt  uns     e 

wi  -  gen   Be 

I 


^^ 


^ 


1.  Tat,     ver  -  e  -  wigt    sich     in 

2.  haft,    sie  macht  den    Men-schen 

3.  stand,  ver-biirgt  uns       e    -   wi 


scho-  ner  Tat. 
dau  -  er  -  haft, 
gen    Be -stand. 


Goethe's  philosophy.  227 

This  poem,  which  belongs  to  Goethe's  masonic  verses,  was 
sung  as  a  quartette  in  the  Lodge  Amaha  at  Weimar,  September 
3,  1825.  We  have  taken  the  song  from  Wernekke's  book  on 
''Goethe  and  the  Royal  Art."^  Translated  into  English  it  reads 
as  follows : 

Oh  drop  the  transient,  drop  it  from  our  lives ! 

Thence  help  is  never  realized. 
In  past  events  the  valiant  good  survives, 

In  noble  deeds  immortalized. 

And  life  acquires  its  vitality, 

Throughout  causation's  endless  chain. 
For  character  gives  man  stability, 

Endeavor  makes  that  he  remain. 

Thus  the  great  question  of  our  future  home 

At  last  is  for  solution  rife : 
For  the  enduring  while  on  earth  we  roam, 

Assureth  us  eternal  life. 

The  Egyptian  method  of  building  pyramids  and  of  immor- 
talizing the  bodies  of  the  dead  by  embalming  and  mummifying, 
is  erroneous;  rather  let  the  tradition  of  which  we  consist  and 
which  we  impart  to  others  be  of  the  right  kind.  The  greatest 
treasures  we  can  give  to  others  are  ourselves,  our  souls,  the 
truths  which  we  have  discovered,  our  hopes,  our  loves,  our  ideals. 
Goethe  says  in  one  of  his  most  vigorous  poems : 

It  matters  not,  I  ween,  [Und  wo  die  Freunde  faulen, 

Where  worms   our   friends   consume,  Das  ist  ganz  einerlei. 

Beneath  the  turf  so  green,  Ob  unter  Marmor-Saulen 

Or  'neath  the  marble  tomb.  Oder  im  Rasen  frei. 

Remember  ye  who  live,  Der  Lebende  bedenke. 

Though  frowns  the  fleeting  day,  Wenn  auch  der  Tag  ihm  mault, 

That  to  your  friends  you  give  Dass  er  den  Freunden  schenke 

What  never  will  decay.  Was  nie  und  nimmer  fault.] 
— Tr.  by  Edgar  Alfred  Bozvring. 

Goethe's  notion  of  immortality  was  closely  connected  with 
his  conception  of  evolution.     He  believed  in  growth  and  higher 

'Goethe  und  die  konigliche  Kunst.  Von  Dr.  Hug9  Wernekke,  vormals 
Meister  vom  Stuhl  der  Loge  Amalia  in  Weimar.    Leipsic,  1905. 


228  GOETHE. 

development,  or  what  to-day  we  call  ''evolution."  Immortality 
according  to  his  idea  depended  on  ourselves,  and  he  regarded  the 
human  soul  as  an  organic  center  which  he  sometimes  called  with 
Leibnitz  "monad"  and  sometimes  with  Aristotle  "entelechy." 
Goethe  says  in  a  letter  to  Knebel  of  December  3,  1781 : 
''It  is  an  article  of  my  faith  that  only  through  fortitude  and 
faithfulness  in  our  present  condition  can  we  rise  to  a  higher 
plane  of  being  in  our  next  existence  and  thus  become  capable  of 
entering  upon  it  from  this  temporal  existence  of  ours  to  the 
beyond  in  eternity." 

The  present  life,  at  any  rate  this  world,  not  a  beyond,  de- 
mands our  complete  attention.  Says  Goethe  in  the  second  part 
of  "Faust" : 

The  sphere  of  earth  is  known  enough  to  me ; 
The  view  beyond  is  barred  immutably : 
A  fool,  who  there  his  blinking  eyes  directeth, 
Above  the  clouds  a  place  of  peers  detecteth  ! 
Firm  let  him  stand,  and  look  around  him  well ! 
This  world  means  something  to  the  capable. 
Why  needs  he  through  eternity  to  wend? 
He  here  acquires  what  he  can  apprehend. 

[Der  Erdenkreis  ist  mir  genug  bekannt. 
Nach  driiben  ist  die  Aussicht  uns  verrannt ; 
Thor,  wer  dorthin  die  Augen  blinzend  richtet, 
Sich  iiber  Wolken  Seinesgleichen  dichtet ! 
Er  stehe  fest  und  sehe  hier  sich  um ; 
Dem  Tiichtigen  ist  diese  Welt  nicht  stumm. 
Was  braucht  er  in  die  Ewigkeit  zu  schweifen ! 
Was  er  erkennt,  lasst  sich  ergreifen.] 

This  passage  proves  that  when  Goethe  speaks  of  "the  be- 
yond," he  means  beyond  the  grave,  but  still  in  this  actual  world 
of  ours ;  when  he  speaks  of  "eternity"  he  means  the  infinite  vista 
of  higher  life  before  us,  or  perhaps  the  condition  of  timelessness, 
but  not  a  heaven  with  angelic  choirs. 

Even  our  immortalized  existence  is  and  will  remain  a  constant 
struggle.     Says  Faust: 

Yes  !  to  this  thought  I  hold  with  firm  persistence ; 
The  last  result  of  wisdom  stamps  it  true; 


Goethe's  philosophy.  229 

He  only  earns  his  freedom  and  existence, 

Who  daily  conquers  them  anew. 
Then  dared  I  hail  the  Moment  fleeing: 

"Ah,  still  delay — thou  art  so  fair!" 
The  traces  cannot,  of  mine  earthly  being, 

In  eons  perish, — they  are  there ! 

— Translated  by  Bayard  Taylor. 

[  Ja !   diesem   Sinne  bin  ich  ganz  ergeben, 

Das  ist  der  Weisheit  letzter  Schluss : 

Nur  der  verdient  sich  Freiheit  wie  das  Leben, 

Der  taglich  sie  erobern  muss. 

Zum  Augenblicke  diirft  ich  sagen : 

Verweile  doch,  du  bist  so  schon ! 

Es  kann  die  Spur  von  meinen  Erdentagen 

Nicht  in  Aeonen  untergehn.] 

Goethe's  view  of  immortality  was  not  that  of  the  orthodox 
Christian.  It  was  much  more  kin  to  Oriental  philosophy,  and 
in  spite  of  his  conception  of  the  soul  as  a  monad  or  entelechy 
after  the  fashion  of  the  Brahman  atman,  his  helief  in  immor- 
tality in  all  practical  considerations  bore  a  close  resemblance  to 
Buddhist  doctrines. "*  This  is  the  more  remarkable  as  in  Goethe's 
time  only  distant  echoes  .of  the  wisdom  of  the  East  had  reached 
Europe.  But  these  echoes  were  sufficient  for  Goethe  to  say  in 
a  letter  to  the  artist  Meyer,  dated  August  24,  1823:  ''When  one 
comes  upon  the  Orientals  one  finds  remarkable  things."  (Man 
komme  iiber  die  Orientalen,  da  findet  man  erstaunliche  Dingo.) 
But  with  all  his  fondness  for  Orientalism  Goethe  was  neither  a 
mystic  nor  an  admirer  of  romanticism.  He  was  first  of  all  a 
lover  of  clear  and  well-defined  thought,  and  if  he  belonged  to 
any  special  type,  he  was  a  Greek, — but  he  was  a  Greek  because 
the  true  Greek  was  cosmopolitan  and  the  genius  of  Greek  an- 
tiquity was  identical  with  humanitarianism.  Or,  in  other  words, 
Goethe  was  convinced  that  humanitarianism  had  found  its  purest 
expression  in  the  civilization  and  religion  of  ancient  Greece. 

The  main  tenets  of  immortality,  and  even  of  reincarnation, 
are  repeatedly  expressed  in  Goethe's  own  writings  and  in  his 

*The  subject  has  been  treated  in  an  article  "Brahmanism  and  Buddhism, 
or  the  Religion  of  Postulates  and  the  Religion  of  Facts"  in  The  Open  Court, 
Vol.  X,  p.  4851  ff.  For  further  discussions  on  the  soul  see  "The  Soul  in 
Science  and  Religion,"  Monist,  XVI.  219-253;  "Life  and  the  Soul"  Monist, 
XVIII,  192-216;  "Panpsychism  and  Panbiotism,"  Monist,  III.  234-257. 


230  GOETHE. 

letters.  In  his  writings  Goethe  abstained  from  committing  him- 
self to  the  belief  in  a  soul-entity,  and  his  views  are  stated  in 
such  general  terms  that  they  might  suit  either  the  Buddhists 
or  the  Vedantists,  but  in  his  conversations  he  went  further, 
taking  decidedly  the  Brahman  view,  and  we  will  here  present 
those  additional  expressions  of  his  thought  which  he  mentions 
privately  to  Eckermann  and  Falk. 

Goethe  said  to  Eckermann  on  September  1,  1829: 

"I  do  not  doubt  our  continuance,  for  nature  can  not  do 
without  continuity;  but  we  are  not  all  immortal  in  the  same 
vv^ay,  and  in  order  to  manifest  himself  as  a  great  entelechy,  a 
man  must  first  be  one." 

Here  Goethe  falls  back  upon  a  technical  term  of  Aristotle 
denoting  that  something  which  makes  things  actual.  The  word 
''entelechy"  means  tlie  quality  of  having  become  complete,  of 
being  perfected,  or  having  attained  its  purpose,^  and  is  used 
in  contrast  to  "dynamics,"^  i.  e.,  potential  existence,  which  is 
the  idea  of  a  thing,  its  possibility,  its  mere  potentiality.  Ac- 
cordingly, entelechy  denotes  that  principle  or  factor  which  ren- 
ders things  actual. 

The  idea  of  an  entelechy  as  a  separate  being  is  decidedly 
metaphysical  and,  if  taken  seriously,  would  lead  to  dualism. 
There  is  not  reality,  and  a  principle  that  makes  reality  real. 
There  is  not  motion,  and  an  agent  of  motion,  a  being  that  makes 
motion  move.  There  is  not  actuality,  and  a  thing  that  makes 
actuality  act.  The  actuality  of  things  and  also  of  living  beings 
is  their  existence  itself,  and  living  beings  (i.  e.,  organisms) 
originate  in  a  slow  process  of  evolution  by  a  combination  of  their 
parts,  or  as  we  would  better  call  it,  by  organization.  We  may 
regard  them  as  actualizations  of  eternal  types,  but  in  that  case 
we  can  only  mean  their  potential  existence,  which  is  the  possi- 
bility of  their  special  combinations,  in  the  same  sense  as  mathe- 
matical truths  are  eternal  and  exist  even  before  any  mathema- 
tician has  discovered  and  actualized  them. 

°  hreXexeia  is  derived  from  evreXris,  "perfect,"  and  ex«»',  "to  have."  The 
adjective  ej/reXij?  means  also  "powerful,  mighty,  commanding";  and  the  verb 
epTeWeiv,  from  which  it  is  derived,  "to  enjoin,  to  command."  The  root  of  the 
latter  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  noun  reXos,  "end,  purpose." 

'  bvvaiiis,  "potentiality." 


Goethe's  philosophy.  231 

Goethe  apparently  takes  the  word  in  the  sense  of  an  entity. 
On  March  2,  1830,  we  find  the  term  ''entelechy"  mentioned 
again  in  another  sHghtly  different  connection.  There  he  is  re- 
ported as  having  said : 

"The  persistence  of  the  individual  and  the  fact  that  man 
rejects  what  does  not  agree  with  him,  are  proofs  to  me  that  such 
a  thing  as  an  entelechy  exists.  Leibnitz  cherished  similar  ideas 
concerning  such  independent  entities,  except  that  what  we  call 
'entelechy'  he  called  'monad.'  " 

Almost  seventeen  years  prior  to  these  conversations  with 
Eckermann  Goethe  used  the  term  "monad"  in  a  talk  with  Falk 
who  accompanied  him  on  his  return  from  the  funeral  of  Wie- 
land.  W^ith  reference  to  the  impossibility  that  W'ieland's  soul 
could  have  been  annihiliated,  Goethe  said : 

"There  can  be  no  thought  of  an  annihilation  in  nature  of 
such  high  psychic  powers,  nor  under  any  conditions,  for  shets 
not  wasteful  of  her  capital.  A\^ieland's  soul  is  by  nature  a  treas- 
ure, a  real  gem.  Moreover,  during  the  whole  of  his  long  life 
he  did  not  use  up  these  spiritual  and  beautiful  talents,  but  in- 
creased them .... 

"A  personal  continuance  of  our  soul  after  death  by  no  means 
conflicts  with  the  observations  which  I  have  made  for  many  years 
concerning  the  constitution  of  our  own  being  and  all  existences  in 
nature.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  be  an  outcome  of  them 
and  finds  in  them  new  confirmation. 

"How  much  or  how  little  of  a  personality  deserves  to  be 
preserved,  is  another  question,  and  an  affair  which  we  must  leave 
to  God.  At  present  I  will  only  say  this :  I  assume  different 
classes  and  degrees  of  ultimate  aboriginal  elements  of  all  beings 
which  are,  as  it  were,  the  initial  points  of  all  phenomena  in 
nature.  I  might  call  them  souls  because  from  them  the  anima- 
tion of  the  whole  proceeds.  Perhaps  I  had  better  call  them 
monads.  Let  me  retain  this  term  of  Leibnitz,  because  it  ex- 
presses the  simplicity  of  these  simplest  beings  and  there  might 
be  no  better  name.  Some  of  these  monads  or  initial  points, 
experience  teaches,  are  so  small  and  so  insignificant  that  they 
are  fit  only  for  a  subordinate  service  and  existence.  Others  how- 
ever are  quite  strong  and  powerful .... 


232  GOETHE. 

"All  monads  are  by  nature  so  indestructible  that  they  can 
not  stop  or  lose  their  activity  at  the  moment  of  dissolution,  but 
must  continue  it  in  the  very  same  moment.  Thus  they  only  part 
from  their  old  relations  in  order  to  enter  at  once  into  new  ones. 
In  this  change  all  depends  on  the  power  of  intention  which  re- 
sides in  this  or  that  monad. 

"Each  monad  proceeds  to  whithersoever  it  belongs,  into  the 
water,  into  the  air,  into  the  earth,  into  the  fire,  into  the  stars, 
yea  the  secret  tendency  which  conducts  it  thither,  contains  at 
the  same  time  the  secret  of  its  future  destiny.  Any  thought  of 
annihilation  is  quite  excluded .... 

"Should  we  venture  on  supposition,  I  really  do  not  under- 
stand what  could  prevent  the  monad  to  which  we  owe  the  ap- 
pearance of  Wieland  on  our  planet  to  enter  in  its  new  state  of 
existence  into  the  highest  combination  of  this  universe.  By  its 
diligence,  its  zeal,  its  genius,  through  which  it  has  incorporated 
into  its  own  existence  so  many  historical  states,  it  is  entitled  to 
anything.  I  should  not  be  astonished  at  all  should  I,  after  mil- 
lenniums, meet  Wieland  again  as  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude. 
Then  I  should  see  him  and  bear  witness  how  he  with  his  dear 
light  would  gladden  and  quicken  everything  that  would  come 
near  him. 

"To  bring  light  and  clearness  into  the  nebular  existence  of 
some  comet  should  be  deemed  a  joyous  task  for  a  monad  such  as 
the  one  of  our  Wieland !  Considering  the  eternity  of  this  uni- 
verse of  ours,  no  other  dut}^  generally  speaking,  can  be  assumed 
for  monads  than  that  they  in  their  turn  should  partake  of  the 
joys  of  the  gods  as  blessed  creative  powers.  They  are  conver- 
sant with  the  becoming  of  creation.  Whether  called  or  uncalled, 
they  come  by  themselves  from  all  sides,  on  all  paths,  from  the 
mountains,  from  the  oceans,  from  the  stars.  Who  can  prevent 
them? 

"I  am  sure  that  I,  such  as  you  see  me  here,  have  lived  a 
thousand  times,  and  hope  to  come  again  another  thousand  times." 

There  is  a  great  lack  of  lucidity  in  these  sentences.  On  the 
one  hand  the  monads  are  the  simplest  realities,  a  kind  of  atoms, 
which  belong  to  fire,  water,  earth,  and  other  elementary  exis- 
tences ;  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  distinct  agencies,  and  are 


Goethe's  philosophy.  233 

introduced  to  personify  the  law  that  sways  the  formation  of  a 
nebula  into  a  planetary  system;  and  again  they  are  assumed  to 
be  psychic  entities.  Perhaps  some  monads  are  thought  to  be 
chemical  atoms  and  others  psychic  powers;  and  the  latter,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  Greek  deities,  are  expected  to  do  the  work 
of  the  natural  laws.  Such  thoughts  are  poetry,  not  science; 
fiction,  not  psychological  facts;  mythology,  not  philosophy. 

The  soul  is  a  unity  but  its  unity  is  due  to  unification.  The 
unity  of  the  soul  is  not  rigid;  it  is  not  a  monad,  not  an  entity 
of  any  substance  nor  a  center  of  forces,  but  it  is  the  unity  of 
system  such  as  we  observe  in  organisms.  The  soul  is  built  up 
not  unlike  a  well-governed  state,  into  a  centralized  common- 
wealth of  sentiments  and  impulses,  sensations,  yearnings,  more 
or  less  checked  by  different  considerations,  called  self-control. 
Ideas,  volitions  and  aspirations,  and  the  whole  of  this  spiritual 
organism  constitute  a  definite  personality  which  is  called  the 
self,  or  the  ego.  There  is  no  need  of  assuming  the  existence  of 
a  nucleus  around  which  all  these  psychical  activities  cluster;  the 
system  itself  is  its  unity  and  this  system  is  the  product  of  the 
dominating  purpose  which  animates  all  actions  and  their  aims. 

If  we  knew  Goethe  from  this  passage  on  the  soul-monad 
alone  we  would  say  that  he  was  a  mystic.  We  grant  that  he 
had  a  mystic  vein  whenever  he  spoke  of  the  soul,  but  even 
here  he  disliked  the  excrescences  of  mysticism.  He  avoided 
having  anything  to  do  with  clairvoyance  and  other  pathological 
or  semi-pathological  phenomena.  He  not  only  disliked  to  delve 
into  inquisitions  of  mysterious  events,  but  even  to  analyze  psycho- 
logical problems  in  abstract  speculations.  Thus  his  views  re- 
mained hazy  and  indistinct.  He  accepted  immortality  as  a  fact, 
not  because  it  could  be  proved, — in  fact  he  thought  it  could  not 
be  proved, — but  because  he  could  not  dispense  with  an  infinite 
outlook  into  the  past  as  well  as  the  future. 

Goethe's  conversation  with  Falk  is  perhaps  the  most  impor- 
tant passage  to  be  quoted  on  the  mooted  topic.  It  may  be  well  to 
bear  in  mind  that  it  was  Falk  and  not  Goethe  who  wrote  these 
sentences,  and  that  they  therefore  must  be  used  with  discretion. 
Nevertheless  we  can  not  doubt  that  Goethe  held  similar  views, 
and  that  he  believed  in  the  existence  of  monads  or  entelechies. 


234  GOETHE. 

Yea  the  expression  was  so  dear  to  him  that  in  his  first  conception 
of  the  conclusion  of  "Faust"  he  used  the  word  entelechy  when 
saying  that  Faust's  soul  was  carried  up  to  heaven  by  angels. 
In  the  printed  editions  he  replaced  it  by  the  term  "Faust's  Im- 
mortal." 

Eckermann  has  recorded  several  of  Goethe's  remarks  which 
corroborate  the  impression  that  he  held  these  notions.  For  in- 
stance under  March  11,  1828,  we  find  the  following  comment 
of  Goethe's : 

"Each  entelechy  is  a  piece  of  eternity,  and  those  few  years 
during  which  it  is  joined  to  its  terrestrial  body  do  not  make  it 
old." 

In  a  conversation  with  his  friends,  Chancellor  von  Mueller 
and  Herrn  von  Riemer,  October  19,  1823,  Goethe  declared  that 
it  would  be  quite  impossible  for  a  thinking  being  to  entertain 
the  idea  of  his  own  non-existence  or  the  discontinuance  of  his 
thought  and  life.  Accordingly  every  one  carried  a  proof  of  his 
own  immortality  directly  within  himself,  but  as  soon  as  he  tried 
to  commit  himself  to  objective  statements,  as  soon  as  he  would 
venture  to  come  out  w^ith  it,  as  soon  as  he  wanted  to  prove  dog- 
matically or  comprehend  a  personal  continuance,  as  soon  as  he 
would  bolster  up  this  inner  observation  in  a  commonplace  way, 
he  would  lose  himself  in  contradictions. 

In  his  "Prose  Sayings"   (1028-1029)   Goethe  says: 

"The  highest  we  have  received  from  God  and  Nature  is  life, 
viz.,  the  rotating  motion  of  the  monad  around  itself,  which 
knows  no  rest  nor  ceasing.  The  tendency  to  preserve  and  cherish 
life  is  naturally  and  indelibly  inborn  in  every  one,  but  its  nature 
remains  a  mystery  to  us  as  well  as  to  others.  The  second  favor 
which  comes  from  the  Supreme  Being  is  what  we  call  experience 
in  life,  our  becoming  aware  of  things,  and  the  influences  which 
the  living  and  moving  monad  exerts  upon  the  surroundings  of 
the  outer  world.  Thereby  the  monad  feels  itself  as  infinite  within 
and  limited  without." 

In  a  conversation  with  Chancellor  von  Miiller,  February  25, 
1824,  Goethe  expressed  his  reluctance  to  investigate  the  question 
of  life  after  death : 

"To  be  engrossed  with  ideas  of  immortality  is  only  for  the 


GOETHE  S  PHILOSOPHY. 


235 


leisure  classes,  and  especially  for  women  who  have  nothing  to 
do.  A  capable  man  who  needs  to  make  himself  useful  here,  and 
who  accordingly  has  to  exert  himself  daily,  to  struggle  and  to 


FRIEDRICH  WILHELM  RIEMER. 

work,  leaves  the  future  world  alone  and  is  active  and  useful  in 
this  one." 

Considering  all  these  quotations  it  is  certain  that  Goethe  as- 
sumed the  existence  of  a  soul-entity,   an  entelechy  or  monad, 


236 


GOETHE. 


which  in  his  opinion  was  necessary  for  comprehending  the  nature 
of  the  soul  and  its  immortahty,  and  the  latter  was  not  the  tra- 
ditional Christian,  but  an  Oriental  belief,  i.  e.,  a  reincarnation  or 


FRIEDRICH  VON  MUELLER,  1797-1849. 
Drawing  by  Schmeller. 

metempsychosis   of   some   kind.      He   speaks    repeatedly   of   his 
former  existences;  so  for  instance  in  a  poem  addressed  to  Frau 


Goethe's  philosophy.  237 

von  Stein,  he  declares  that  in  the  sympathy  which  binds  their 
souls,  he  feels  that  in  "by-gone  ages  she  must  have  been  either 
his  sister  or  his  wi£e."^ 

When  he  traveled  in  Italy  Goethe  declared  that  he  must 
have  lived  there,  and  he  went  so  far  as  to  state  that  it  must  have 
been  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Hadrian.  He  wrote  on  October 
12,  1786  from  Venice:  "Indeed  I  feel  even  now  as  if  I  were  not 
seeing  things  here  for  the  first  time,  but  as  if  I  had  seen  them  be- 
fore." Goethe  sympathized  with  the  cosmopolitan  spirit  of  Empe- 
ror Hadrian.  The  personality  of  Hadrian,  his  ideals  and  actions, 
were  congenial  to  Goethe,  and  so  the  sight  of  the  monuments, 
being  associated  with  ideals  dear  to  the  German  poet,  found  an 
echo  in  his  heart.  There  was  something  kin  in  Goethe's  soul,  and 
so  it  is  natural  that  everything  in  Italy  seemed  familiar  to  him. 
He  therefore  concludes :  'T  must  have  been  here  before ;  I  must 
have  lived  in  those  days,  for  I  have  seen  all  this  before." 

We  believe  that  there  is  a  truth  at  the  bottom  of  this  idea, 
for  Goethe's  soul  is  composed  of  all  the  aspirations  that  entered 
into  the  rich  fabric  of  ideas  which  made  up  his  personality.  We 
do  not  originate  at  the  hour  of  birth,  nor  in  the  moment  of  con- 
ception. All  of  us,  all  human  beings,  were  present  when  primi- 
tive man  in  the  circle  of  his  familv  and  fellows  felt  the  need  of 
communicating  his  thoughts,  when  he  uttered  the  first  and  still 
imperfectly  articulated  words.  We  were  present  in  the  minds  of 
the  prehistoric  inventors  of  tools,  of  the  wdieel,  of  the  needle, 
etc.  We  have  lived  with  our  ancestors  and  the  sages  of  yore 
exactly  to  the  extent  that  their  aspirations,  their  work,  their  ac- 
complishments are  preserved  in  us  and  continue  to  be  part  of  our 
souls. 

Goethe's  view  of  the  soul  as  a  monad,  a  unit,  a  certain  some- 
thing which  migrates  from  one  personalit}^  to  another  and  is 
reincarnated  again  and  again,  is  untenable  from  the  scientific 
conception  of  things  spiritual,  because  spiritual  things  are  not 
entities.  They  are  not  substantial,  and  they  can  never  be  monads. 
If  the  soul  is  not  a  substantial  entity  that  originates ;  if  it  is  form 
and  not  matter  or  energ}^  its  continuance  can  not  depend  upon 

'  Ach,  du  warst,  in  abgelegten  Zeiten, 

Meine  Schwester  oder  meine  Frau. 


238  GOETHE. 

the  identity  of  a  substance  of  any  kind  but  must  be  a  preserva- 
tion of  form.  This  in  fact  is  the  real  state  of  things,  for  a 
preservation  of  form  actually  takes  place  in  our  bodily  constitu- 
tion. There  is  a  preservation  of  our  bodily  appearance  under 
constant  slow  modifications;  we  retain  the  structure  of  our  sense 
organs,  and  especially  of  our  memory.  The  continuity  of  our 
life  is  simply  due  to  the  preservation  of  form  in  the  constant 
flux  of  the  vital  functions  which  constitute  life.  The  changes, 
ofrowth,  and  all  the  various  fluctuations  of  our  bodv  account  most 
easily  for  those  of  our  consciousness,  and  the  preservation  of 
form — of  soul-forms — is  not  limited  to  the  span  of  our  lives,  it 
takes  place  also  in  the  development  of  the  entire  life  of  man- 
kind. The  souls  of  the  past  are  preserved  in  the  souls  of  the 
present  generation.  They  are  transferred  by  heredity  and  edu- 
cation from  parents  to  children  and  children's  children. 

With  all  due  respect  for  his  greatness,  we  believe  that  Goethe 
has  not  elaborated  his  views  of  the  soul  nor  matured  them  into 
clear  and  scientifically  tenable  propositions.  He  was  too  much 
of  a  poet  and  too  little  of  a  philosopher. — in  spite  of  his  several 
scientific  labors.  He  actually  disliked  explanations  in  abstract 
terms. 


Goethe  was  neither  a  spiritualist  nor  a  materialist.  He  had 
common  sense  enough  not  to  accept  the  superstitions  of  "ghosts 
and  spooks,  but  on  the  other  hand  he  could  not  be  prevailed 
upon  to  join  the  opposite  camp  of  those  who  would  deny  the 
very  existence  of  mind  and  its  significance.  He  lost  no  oppor- 
tunity to  ridicule  such  shallow  rationalists  as  Nicolai  of  Berlin, 
whose  zeal  for  exterminating  spirits  consisted  in  a  repudiation  of 
spirit. 

Though  Goethe  was  very  reluctant  to  accept  the  marvelous 
stories  of  telepathy  he  knew  full  well  that  man's  mind  is  capable 
of  understanding  things  which  are  not  directly  approachable  by 
the  senses,  and  that  in  the  same  sense  the  mind  penetrates  to 
distant  places.  This  view  with  its  rational  explanation  is  very 
drastically  and  simply  set  forth  in  a  poem  entitled  ''Effect  at  a 
Distance."     Telepathy  is  indeed  possible,  but  the  true  telepathy 


i 


Goethe's  philosophy.  239 

is  no  mysterious  power,  but  mere  logical  deduction.  Nor  are  our 
mental  functions  thought-waves  which  proceed  in  undulations 
from  man's  brain  outward  to  other  parts  of  the  world.  Alan's 
judgments  are  simply  an  interpretation  of  the  facts  presented 
to  him  in  sensations,  and  this  power  of  the  mind  yields  most 
marvelous  results.  Frequently  it  enables  man  to  know  with 
great  distinctness  and  positive  certainty  things  that  have  hap- 
pened long  ago  or  at  a  great  distance.  Just  as  the  presence 
of  a  star  is  indicated  by  the  sense  impression  of  a  speck  of  light 
on  the  retina  of  the  eye,  so  a  certain  symptom  may  betray  a 
situation  of  the  occurrence  of  an  event  which  itself  could  not  be 
observed,  and  this  is  true  telepathy  undeniable  by  the  grossest 
materialist.  On  this  telepathy  is  based  our  communication  by 
telephone,  telegraph  and  wireless  telegraphy;  electric  waves  of 
a  short  or  long  duration  are  transferred,  so-called  dots  and  dashes 
and  their  several  combinations  represent  the  several  letters  of  the 
alphabet,  as  well  as  other  symbols  known  to  the  operators  at  both 
ends.  There  are  electric  waves,  not  thought  waves,  that  go  to 
a  distance,  but  the  mind  deciphers  the  meaning  that  is  given  to 
the  different  forms  of  the  transmitted  undulations.  This  is  the 
method  by  which  science  discovers  the  hidden  secrets  of  natural 
laws,  the  origin  of  creation,  the  development  of  evolution,  etc. 
Such  telepathy  is  possible,  and  the  law  of  its  operation  will  be 
seen  to  be  very  simple  indeed.  Scarcely  ever  has  any  more 
humerous,  and  at  the  same  time  more  instructive,  presentation 
of  the  problem  been  given  than  is  set  forth  in  Goethe's  poem, 
a  versified  translation  of  which  is  here  attempted.     It  reads  thus: 

EFFECT  AT  A  DISTANCE. 

The  Queen  has  a  party,  the  candles  are  bright, 

Her  guests  a  game  start  playing ; 

She  says  to  her  page :  "Thy  foot  is  light, 

Fetch  the  counters,"  and  then  adds,  saying: 

"They  lie  to  hand 

On  my  dresser  stand." 

The  lad  is  quite  nimble  and  zealous, 

He  hies  to  the  end  of  the  palace. 

Beside  the  Queen,  her  sherbet  sips 

A  pretty  maid  of  honor, 

She  brings  the  cup  so  hard  to  her  lips 


240  GOETHE. 

That  some  is  spilled  upon  her. 

A  cry  of  distress 

For  the  exquisite  dress ! 

And,  with  the  fresh  stains  from  the  chalice, 

She  runs  to  the  end  of  the  palace. 

The  damsel  and  the  returning  boy 

In  the  lonely  hall  were  meeting; 

None  knew  of  their  love,  but  neither  was  coy 

With  open  arms  of  greeting. 

Glance  spoke  to  glance 

Of  the  glorious  chance; 

And,  heart  to  heart,  in  seclusion, 

They  kissed  and  embraced  with  effusion. 

At  last  they  tore  themselves  apart, 
The  maid  to  her  chamber  was  slipping; 
The  youth  returned  with  a  beating  heart. 
O'er  swords  and  flounces  tripping. 
The  Queen's  eye,  trained. 
Saw  the  lad's  vest  stained, 
Like  the  Queen  of  Sheba  in  glory. 
She  knew  at  once  the  whole  story. 

She  addressed  her  lady-in-waiting,  elate, 
"You  argued,  with  insistence, 
Some  time  ago  in  our  little  debate, 
That  the  mind  does  not  act  at  a  distance ; 
That  the  presence  we  face 
Alone  we  can  trace ; 

To  the  distance  are  reaching  no  forces, 
Not  even  the  stars  in  their  courses. 

"Some  sherbet,  you  see,  has  been  spilled  at  my  side, 

And  lo !  3'ou  may  call  it  a  wonder ! 

It  stained  the  vest  of  the  lad  that  hied 

To  the  end  of  the  palace  yonder. 

Have  a  new  one  mj^  boy, 

Because  I  enjoy, 

That  a  proof  for  my  views  you  unfolded ; 

I'll  pay  it,  nor  shall  you  be  scolded." 


[WIRKUNG  IN  DIE  FERNE. 

Die  Konigin  steht  im  hohen  Saal, 

Da  brennen  der  Kerzen  so  viele ; 

Sie  spricht  zum  Pagen :  "Du  laufst  einmal 

Und  hoist  mir  den  Beutel  zum  Spiele. 

Er  lieget  zur  Hand 


\ 


Goethe's  philosophy.  241 

Auf  meines  Tisches  Rand." 
Der  Knabe,  der  eilt  so  behende, 
War  bald  an  des  Schlosses  Ende. 

Und  neben  der  Konigin  schliirft  zur  Stund' 

Sorbet  die  schonste  der  Frauen. 

Da  brach  ihr  die  Tasse  so  hart  an  dem  Mund, 

Es  war  ein  Greuel  zu  schauen. 

Verlegenheit !  Scham ! 

Urn's  Prachtkleid  ist's  gethan ! 

Sie  eilt  und  fliegt  so  behende 

Entgegen  des  Schlosses  Ende. 

Der  Knabe  zuriick  zu  laufen  kam 

Entgegen  der  Schonen  in  Schmerzen ; 

Es  wusst'  es  Niemand,  doch  Beide  zusamm', 

Sie  hegten  einander  im  Herzen ; 

Und  o  des  Gliicks, 

Des  giinst'gen  Geschicks ! 

Sie  warfen  mit  Brust  sich  zu  Briisten 

Und  hcrzten  und  kiissten  nach  Liisten. 

Doch  endlich  Beide  sich  reissen  los ; 

Sie  eilt  in  ihre  Gemacher; 

Der  Page  drangt  sich  zur  Konigin  gross 

Durch  alle  die  Degen  und  Facher. 

Die  Fiirstin  entdeckt 

Das  Westchen  befleckt : 

Fiir  sie  war  nichts  unerreichbar, 

Der  Kon'gin  von  Saba  vergleichbar. 

Und  sie  die  Hofmeisterin  rufen  lasst : 
"Wir  kamen  doch  neulich  zu  Streite, 
Und  Ihr  behauptet  steif  und  fest, 
Nicht  reiche  der  Geist  in  die  Weite; 
Die  Gegenwart  nur, 
Die  lasse  wohl  Spur ; 
Doch  Niemand  wirk'  in  die  Feme, 
Sogar  nicht  die  himmlischen  Sterne." 

"Nun  seht !     So  eben  ward  mir  zur  Seit' 

Der  geistige  Siisstrank  verschiittet, 

Und  gleich  darauf  hat  er  dort  hinten  so  weit 

Dem  Knaben  die  Weste  zerriittet. — 

Besorg'  dir  sie  neu ! 

Und  weil  ich  mich  freu', 

Dass  sie  mir  zum  Beweise  gegolten, 

Ich  zahl'  sie !  sonst  wirst  du  gescholten."] 


242  GOETHE. 

Under  the  title  ''God  and  World,"  Goethe  published  several 
philosophical  poems,  among  which  one  entitled  ''One  and  All," 
ends  with  the  lines : 

And  into  naught  we  all  must  fall 
If  e'er  in  life  we  shall  remain ; 

while  the  poem  "Bequest"  makes  the  opposite  statement  saying: 

No  being  into  naught  can  fall ; 
The  eternal  Hveth  in  them  all. 

This  contrast  is  intentional  on  Goethe's  part;  he  had  written 
the  Poem,  "One  and  All"  in  a  mood  which  may  appropriately  be 
characterized  as  "Goethe's  Nirvana."  But  Goethe  found  himself 
misunderstood.  A  German  naturalist  association  took  the  lines 
as  a  motto  in  a  connection  which  seemed  to  interpret  the  idea  that 
death  ends  all ;  so  Goethe  found  himself  urged  to  show  the  re- 
verse to  this  statement  of  self-surrender  and  therefore  wrote 
the  poem  "Bequest"  to  prove  that  while  the  individual  must 
identify  himself  with  the  All,  his  very  individuality  is  preserved 
in  the  evolution  of  soul. 

We  have  further  to  add  that  the  lines  ofifer  some  difficulties 
in  interpretation,  especially  verse  two,  line  four,  of  "Bequest," 
where  "the  Wise  One"  has  been  differently  construed  by  different 
interpreters  of  Goethe's  works.  Some  believe  they  find  in  the 
passage  an  endorsement  of  Kant's  subjective  notions  that  it  is 
the  astronomer  who  prescribes  to  the  planets  their  orbits,  and  in 
that  case  "the  Wise  One"  would  be  Copernicus;  otherwise,  we 
ought  to  understand  by  "Wise  One"  the  Omniscient  Architect 
of  the  world, — a  masonic  idea;^  and  the  meaning  in  that  case 
would  be  that  truth  comes  from  God  who  prescribes  their  courses 
to  the  celestial  bodies. 

Verse  three  of  the  same  poem  contains  indeed  an  echo  of 
Kant's  doctrine  of  the  a  priori,  including  the  categorical  im- 
perative, viz.,  that  the  soul  contains  a  priori  all  the  rules  and  laws 
of  purely  formal  thought,  and  also  the  standard  of  moral  ob- 
ligation.    It  is  (as  verse  4  declares)  pure  reason  which  enables 

*  Goethe  was  a  Mason  and  used  to  write  poems  for  Masonic  festivals. 
See  page  227. 


GOETHE  S  PHILOSOPHY. 


243 


US  to  utilize  all  sense-material;  the  senses  are  reliable  if  regulated 
by  reason. 

Our  translation  is  as  literal  as  possible,  while  preserving  also 
as  far  as  possible  the  meter  of  the  original. 


ONE  AND  ALL. 

Into  the  limitless  to  sink, 
No  one,  I  trow,  will  ever  blink, 
For  there  all  sorrow  we  dismiss. 
Instead  of  cravings,  wants  untold, 
Fatiguing  demands  and  duties  cold, 
Surrender  of  one's  self  is  bliss. 


O,  World-soul,  come  to  fill  our  lives, 
For  he  who  with  thy  spirit  strives 
Attains  the  height  of  his  vocation. 
Then,  sympathetic  spirits,  speed  us ; 
Great  masters,  gently  higher  lead  us 
To  the  Creator  of  creation. 


In  re-creating  the  created, 

Lest  fossilize  the  animated. 

Aye,  active  power,  is  manifest ; 

The  non-existing  actualizing, 

In  younger  worlds  and  suns  is  rising. 

But  never,  nowhere,  can  be  rest. 

In  active  deeds  life  proves  unfolding ; 
It  must  be  moulded  and  keep  mould- 
ing; 
Sometimes  but  seeming  rest  'twill  gain. 
The  eternal  stirreth  in  us  all ; 
And  into  naught  we  all  must  fall. 
If  e'er  in  life  we  shall  remain. 


[KINS  UND  ALLES. 

Im  Grenzenlosen  sich  zu  finden, 
Wird  gern  der  Einzelne  verschwinden, 
Da  lost  sich  aller  Ueberdruss ; 
Statt  heissem  Wiinschen,  wildem  Wol- 

len, 
Statt    last'gem    Fordern,    strengem 

Sollen, 
Sich  aufzugeben,  ist  Genuss. 

Weltseele,    komm',    uns    zu    durch- 

dringen ! 
Dann    mit    dem    Weltgeist    selbst    zu 

ringen, 
Wird  unsrer  Krafte  Hochberuf. 
Theilnehmend  fiihren  gute  Geister, 
Gelinde  leitend,  hochste  Meister, 
Zu  dem,  der  Alles  schafft  und  schuf. 

LTnd  umzuschaffen  das  Geschaffne, 
Damit  sich's  nicht  zum  Starren  waffne, 
Wirkt  ewiges,  lebend'ges  Thun. 
Und  was  nicht  war,  nun  will  es  werden 
Zu  reinen  Sonnen,  farb'gen  Erden ; 
In  keinem  Falle  darf  es  ruhn. 

Es  soil  sich  regen,  schaffend  handeln. 
Erst  sich  gestalten.  dann  verwandeln  ; 
Nur  scheinbar  steht's  Momente  still. 
Das  Ew'ge  regt  sich  fort  in  Allen : 
Denn  Alles  muss  in  Nichts  zerfallen, 
Wenn  es  im  Sein  beharren  will.] 


BEQUEST. 

No  being  into  naught  can  fall, 
The  eternal  liveth  in  them  all ; 
In  being,  therefore,  be  thou  blessed, 
Being  is  eternal,   for  fixed  measures 
Preserve  its  ever-living  treasures. 
In  which  the  world  is  nobly  dressed. 


[VERMAECHTNISS. 

Kein  Wesen  kann  zu  Nichts  zerfallen  I 
Das  Ewige  regt  sich  fort  in  Allen, 
Am  Sein  erhalte  dich  begliickt ! 
Das  Sein  ist  ewig;  denn  Gesetze 
Bewahren  die  lebend'gen  Schatze, 
Aus  welchen  sich  das  All  geschmiickt. 


244 


GOETHE. 


The  Truth  of  yore  has  been  descried, 
And  noble  spirits  it  alHed. 
To  dear  old  Truth  we  must  adhere! 
'Tis  to  the  Wise  One  Truth  we  owe : 
To   Him  who   did  their  orbits   show 
To  earth  and  to  her  brother-sphere. 


First  thou   within   thyself  shouldst 

enter, 
For  that  within  'tis  lies  the  center 
No  noble  thinker  will  gainsay. 
No  rule  there's  missing.     So  rejoice, 
That  conscience'  independent  voice 
Serves  duty  as  its  solar  ray. 

We  on  our  senses  must  rely, 
And  if  our  reason  we  apply, 
Sensation  never  error  yields ; 
With  open  eyes  do  all  observing. 
And  roam  with  confidence  unswerving 
Through  this  world's  rich  and  won- 
drous fields. 

Temper  your  joys  with  moderation, 
With  reason  keep  in  consultation, 
When  life  is  beaming  with  life's  glee. 
The  past  will  thus  become  enduring. 
E'en  now  the  future  life-securing; 
The  moment  gains  eternity. 

If  thou  succeedest,  thou  wilt  feel 
And  it  will  to  thy  mind  appeal, 
True  is  alone  what  fertile  is. 
Examine  universal  sway; 
It  rules  the  world  in  its  own  way. 
Keep  thou  with  the  minorities. 


Das  Wahre  war  schon  langst  gefun- 

den, 
Hat  edle  Geisterschaft  verbunden, 
Das  alte  Wahre  fass  es  an ! 
Verdank'  es,  Erdensohn,  dem  Weisen, 
Der  ihr  die  Sonne  zu  umkreisen 
Und  dem  Geschwister  wies  die  Bahn. 

Sofort  nun  wende  dich  nach  innen. 
Das  Centrum  findest  du  da  drinnen, 
Woran  kein  Edler  zweifeln  mag. 
Wirst  keine  Kegel  da  vermissen ; 
Denn    das    selbststandige   Gewissen 
1st  Sonne  deinem  Sittentag. 


Den  Sinnen  hast  du  dann  zu  trauen ; 
Kein  Falsches  lassen  sie  dich  schauen, 
Wenn  dein  Verstand  dich  wach  erhalt. 
Mit  frischem  Blick  bemerke  freudig, 
Und  wandle,  sicher  wie  geschmeidig, 
Durch  Auen  reichbegabter  Welt. 


Geniesse  massig  Fiill'  und  Segen ; 
Vernunft  sei  iiberall  zugegen, 
Wo  Leben  sich  des  Lebens  freut. 
Dann  ist  Vergangenheit  bestandig. 
Das  Kiinftige  voraus  lebendig, 
Der  Augenblick  ist  Ewigkeit. 

Und  war  es  endlich  dir  gelungen, 
Und    bist    du    vom    Gefiihl    durch- 

drungen : 
Was  fruchtbar  ist,  allein  ist  wahr; 
Du  priifst  das  allgemeine  Walten, 
Es  wird  nach  seiner  Weise  schalten, 
Geselle  dich  zur  kleinsten  Schaar. 


Born,  as  of  old,  of  patient  love. 
Whenever  may  the  spirit  move. 
Are  bard's  and  thinker's  great  crea- 
tions ; 
With  highest  favors  they  are  fraught. 
To  feel  for  noble  souls  their  thought ; 
'Tis  the  most  enviable  of  vocations.] 


Und  wie  von  Alters  her,  im  Stillen, 
Ein  Liebewerk,  nach  eignem  Willen, 
Der  Philosoph,  der  Dichter  schuf; 
So  wirst  du  schonste  Gunst  erzielen  : 
Denn  edlen  Seelen  vorzufiihlen 
Ist  wiinschenswerthester  Beruf.] 


Goethe  expressed  his  world-conception  in  a  prose  poem  on 
nature  which  was  pubHshed  as  "A  Fragment"  in  the  first  issues 


Goethe's  philosophy.  245 

of  the  Journal  of  Erfurt  in  1782,  a  periodical  which  was  not 
printed  but  written  by  hand  in  eleven  copies,  and  circulated  in 
the  select  circles  of  Weimar.  This  fragment  is  a  remarkable 
piece  of  poetic  prose  characteristic  of  Goethe  the  pantheist,  and 
reads  as  follows : 

GOETHE'S  RHAPSODY  ON  NATURE.9 

"Nature !  By  her  we  are  surrounded  and  encompassed — 
unable  to  step  out  of  her  and  unable  to  enter  deeper  into  her. 
Unsolicited  and  unwarned,  she  receives  us  into  the  circle  of  her 
dance,  and  hurries  along  with  us,  till  we  are  exhausted  and  drop 
out  of  her  arms. 

"She  creates  ever  new  forms;  what  now  is,  was  never  before; 
what  was,  comes  not  again — all  is  new,  and  yet  always  the  old. 

"We  live  in  her  midst,  and  are  strangers  to  her.  She  speaks 
with  us  incessantly,  and  betrays  not  her  mystery  unto  us.  We 
affect  her  constantly,  and  yet  have  no  power  over  her. 

"She  seems  to  have  contrived  everything  for  individuality, 
but  cares  nothing  for  individuals.  She  builds  ever,  and  ever 
destroys,  and  her  workshop  is  inaccessible. 

"She  lives  in  her  children  alone;  and  the  mother,  where  is 
she?  She  is  the  only  artist:  from  the  simplest  subject  to  the 
greatest  contrasts ;  without  apparent  effort  to  the  greatest  per- 
fection, to  the  precisest  exactness — always  covered  with  some- 
thing gentle.  Every  one  of  her  works  has  a  being  of  its  own, 
every  one  of  her  phenomena  has  the  most  isolated  idea,  and  yet 
they  all  make  one. 

"She  acts  a  play  on  the  stage :  whether  she  sees  it  herself 
we  know  not,  and  yet  she  plays  it  for  us  who  stand  in  the  corner. 

"There  is  an  eternal  living,  becoming,  and  moving  in  her, 
and  yet  she  proceeds  no  farther.  She  transforms  herself  for- 
ever, and  there  is  no  moment  when  she  stands  still.  Of  remain- 
ing in  a  spot  she  does  not  think,  and  attaches  her  curse  to  stand- 
ing still.  She  is  firm ;  her  step  is  measured,  her  exceptions  rare, 
her  laws  unalterable. 

"She  has  thought,   and   is  constantly  meditating;  not   as  a 

^  Translated  by  the  author. 


246  GOETHE. 

man,  but  as  nature.     She  has  an  all-embracing  mind  of  her  own, 
and  no  one  can  penetrate  it. 

''All  men  are  in  her,  and  she  is  in  all.  With  all  she  carries 
on  a  friendly  game,  and  rejoices  the  more  they  win  from  her. 
She  plays  it  with  many  so  secretly,  that  she  plays  it  to  the  end 
ere  they  know  it. 

"The  most  unnatural  is  also  nature;  even  the  stupidest  Phil- 
istinism hath  something  of  her  genius.  Who  sees  her  not  every- 
where, sees  her  nowhere  aright. 

''She  loves  herself  and  clings  ever,  with  eyes  and  hearts 
without  number,  to  herself.  She  has  divided  herself  into  parts 
in  order  to  enjoy  herself.  Ever  she  lets  new  enjoyers  grow, 
insatiable  to  impart  herself. 

"She  delights  in  illusion.  Whoever  destroys  this  in  himself 
and  others,  him  she  punishes  as  the  strictest  tyrant.  Whoever 
trustfully  follows  her,  him  she  presses  like  a  child  to  her  heart. 

"Her  children  are  without  number.  To  no  one  is  she  alto- 
gether niggardly,  but  she  has  favorites  upon  whom  she  squanders 
much,  and  to  whom  she  sacrifices  much.  To  greatness  she  has 
pledged  her  protection. 

"She  flings  forth  her  creatures  out  of  nothing,  and  tells 
them  not  whence  they  come,  nor  whither  they  are  going.  Let 
them  only  run ;  she  knows  the  way. 

'*She  has  few  springs,  but  those  are  never  worn  out,  always 
active,  always  manifold. 

"Her  play  is  ever  new,  because  she  ever  creates  new  spec- 
tators. Life  is  her  finest  invention,  and  death  is  her  artifice  to 
get  more  life. 

"She  veils  man  in  darkness,  and  spurs  him  continually  to  the 
light.  She  makes  him  dependent  on  the  earth,  dull  and  heavy, 
and  keeps  rousing  him  afresh. 

"She  gives  wants,  because  she  loves  motion.  The  wonder  is 
that  she  accomplishes  all  this  motion  with  so  little.  Every  want 
is  a  benefit;  quickly  satisfied,  quickly  growing  again.  If  she 
gives  one  more,  it  is  a  new  source  of  pleasure ;  but  she  soon 
comes  into  equilibrium. 

"She  sets  out  every  moment  for  the  longest  race,  and  is  every 
moment  at  the  goal. 


Goethe's  philosophy.  247 

''She  is  vanity  itself,  but  not  for  us,  to  whom  she  has  made 
herself  the  greatest  weight. 

''She  lets  every  child  tinker  with  her,  every  fool  pass  judg- 
ment on  her,  thousands  stumble  over  her  and  see  nothing;  and 
she  has  her  joy  in  all,  and  she  finds  in  all  her  account. 

"Man  obeys  her  laws,  even  when  he  strives  against  them; 
he  works  with  her  even  when  he  would  work  against  her. 

"She  makes  of  all  she  gives  a  blessing,  for  she  first  makes 
it  indispensable.  She  lags,  that  we  may  long  for  her;  she  has- 
tens, that  we  may  not  grow  weary  of  her. 

"She  has  no  speech  or  language;  but  she  creates  tongues  and 
hearts  through  which  she  feels  and  speaks. 

"Her  crown  is  love.  Only  through  it  can  man  approach  her. 
She  creates  gaps  between  all  things,  and  is  always  ready  to 
engulf  all.  She  has  isolated  all,  to  draw  all  together.  By  a 
few  draughts  from  the  cup  of  love  she  makes  up  for  a  life  full  of 
trouble. 

"She  is  all.  She  rewards  herself  and  punishes  herself,  de- 
lights and  torments  herself.  She  is  rude  and  gentle,  lovely  and 
terrible,  powerless  and  almighty. 

"All  is  always  noiv  in  her.  Past  and  future  knows  she  not. 
The  present  is  her  eternity. 

"She  is  kindly.  I  praise  her  with  all  her  works.  She  is 
wise  and  quiet.  One  can  tear  no  explanation  from  her,  extort 
from  her  no  gift,  which  she  gives  not  of  her  own  free  will.  She 
is  cunning,  but  for  a  good  end,  and  it  is  best  not  to  observe  her 
cunning. 

"She  is  whole,  and  yet  ever  uncompleted.  As  she  plies  it, 
she  can  always  ply  it. 

"To  every  one  she  appears  in  a  form  of  her  own.  She  hides 
herself  in  a  thousand  names  and  terms,  and  is  always  the  same. 

"She  has  placed  me  here,  she  will  lead  me  away.  I  trust  my- 
self to  her.  She  may  do  as  she  likes  with  me.  She  will  not  hate 
her  work.  It  is  not  I  who  spake  of  her.  No,  both  the  true  as 
well  as  the  false,  she  has  spoken  it  all.  All  the  guilt  is  hers,  and 
hers  all  the  merit." 

*       *       * 

Many  years  after  this  rhapsody  was  written,  the  Chancellor 


248  GOETHE. 

of  Saxe-Weimar,  Herr  von  Miiller,  submitted  the  manuscript 
to  Goethe,  who  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  In  the  meantime  he 
had  modified  his  views,  or  rather  emphasized  another  point  in 
his  world-conception,  and  so  he  looked  upon  his  former  thought 
as  unsatisfactory.  It  was  to  him  a  comparative  that  ought  to  be 
superseded  by  a  superlative.  Yet  it  is  understood  that  the  new 
superlative  view  surpasses  the  comparative  one  without  repu- 
diating it. 

In  1782  Goethe  as  a  pantheist  believed  in  nature  and  in  the 
divinity  of  nature  in  which  we  live  and  move  and  have  our 
being,  but  in  later  years  he  says  concerning  his  views  at  this  time : 
''Nature  does  not  move  forward,  she  remains  the  same.  Her 
laws  are  unchangeable.  Nature  places  me  within  life ;  she  will 
lead  me  out  of  it,  and  I  confide  in  her."  Without  objecting  to 
his  former  belief,  he  has  now  learned  to  appreciate  progress  in 
nature.  He  sees  that  by  "polarity"  and  by  ''gradation"  nature 
produces  a  tendency  surstiin,  involving  a  constant  metamor- 
phosis. His  investigations  in  natural  science  taught  him  that 
man  is  kin  to  the  animal,  that  he  has  risen  from  the  animal  king- 
dom, and  that  consequently  he  is  capable  of  rising  higher  and 
higher.  The  thoughts  of  man's  lowly  origin  and  his  kinship 
to  the  animal  world  are  not  depressing  to  him,  but  on  the  con- 
trary elevating.  He  sees  in  them  the  promise  of  man's  unlimited 
possibilities,  but  this  idea  is  not  expressed  in  his  fragment  on 
"Nature."  So  he  adds  to  it  an  "Elucidation  to  the  x\phoristic 
Essay  on  Nature,"  under  the  date  of  May  24,  1828,  addressed 
to  Chancellor  von  Miiller  as  follows : 

"This  essay  was  sent  to  me  a  short  time  ago  from  among  the 
papers  of  the  late  revered  Duchess  Anna  Amalia;  it  is  written 
by  a  familiar  hand,  of  which  I  was  accustomed  to  avail  myself 
in  my  affairs,  in  the  year  1780  or  thereabouts. 

"I  do  not  exactly  remember  having  written  these  reflections, 
but  they  agree  very  well  with  the  ideas  which  had  at  that  time 
become  developed  in  my  mind.  I  might  term  the  degree  of  in- 
sight which  I  then  possessed,  a  comparative  one,  which  was 
trying  to  express  its  tendency  toward  a  superlative  not  yet  at- 
tained. 

"There  is  an  obvious  inclination  to  a  sort  of  pantheism,  to  the 


Goethe's  philosophy.  249 

conception  of  an  unfathomable,  unconditioned,  humorously  self- 
contradictory  being  underlying  the  phenomena  of  nature ;  and 
it  may  pass  as  a  jest  with  a  bitter  truth  in  it. 

''What  it  lacks  to  make  it  complete,  however,  is  the  con- 
sideration of  the  two  great  driving  wheels  of  nature :  the  ideas 
of  polarity  and  of  gradation,  the  first  pertaining  to  matter  in 
so  far  as  we  conceiv^e  it  as  material,  the  second  on  the  other 
hand  pertaining  to  spirit  in  so  far  as  we  conceive  it  as  spiritual ; 
the  one  exists  in  continuous  attraction  and  repulsion,  the  other 
in  constantly  aspiring  to  a  higher  stage.  But  because  matter 
can  not  exist  efficiently  without  spirit  nor  spirit  without  matter, 
matter  is  also  capable  of  advancement  just  as  spirit  is  not  pre- 
vented from  attracting  and  repelling;  as  only  those  can  under- 
stand who  have  analyzed  sufficiently  to  be  able  to  make  combi- 
nations, or  have  made  enough  combinations  to  be  able  to  analyze 
again. 

''In  those  years  when  the  above  mentioned  essay  was  probably 
written  I  was  chiefly  occupied  with  comparative  anatomy,  and 
in  1784  took  great  pains  to  arouse  sympathy  with  my  conviction 
that  man's  possession  of  an  intermaxillary  bone  was  not  to  be 
disputed.  Even  very  good  thinkers  would  not  investigate  the 
truth  of  the  assertion  and  the  best  observers  denied  its  im- 
portance, and  as  in  so  many  other  matters  I  had  secretly  to  pur- 
sue my  own  way. 

"I  studied  with  unremitting  effort  the  versatility  of  nature 
in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  and  was  fortunate  enough  when  in 
Sicily  in  1787  to  become  acquainted  with  the  metamorphosis 
of  plants  objectively  as  well  as  in  abstract  conception.  The 
metamorphosis  of  the  animal  kingdom  bordered  on  that  of  plants, 
and  in  1790  in  Venice  I  discovered  the  origin  of  the  skull  from 
a  vertebra.  I  now  pursued  more  eagerly  the  construction  of  the 
type,  dictated  the  formula  to  Max  Jacobi  at  Jena  in  1795,  and 
soon  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my  work  taken  up  by  German 
naturalists. 

'Tf  we  consider  the  high  achievements  by  which  all  the  phe- 
nomena of  nature  have  been  gradually  linked  together  in  the 
human  mind ;  and  then,  once  more,  thoughtfully  peruse  the  above 
essay  from  which  we  started,  we  shall,  not  without  a  smile,  com- 


250 


GOETHE. 


pare  that  comparative,  as  I  called  it,  with  the  superlative  v^hich 
we  have  now  reached,  and  rejoice  in  the  progress  of  fifty  years." 
The  famous  scientist  Haller,  who  lived  in  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  (1708-1777),  was  a  forerunner  of  Lamarck, 
Treviranus,  Karl  E.  von  Baer,  and  others,  who  were  the  first 


ALBRECHT  VON  HALLER. 


to  discover  and  state  that  evolution  is  the  universal  law  of  life 
and  growth.  In  spite  of  his  sound  judgment  and  stupendous 
knowledge  in  natural  philosophy,  Haller  had  not  yet  freed 
himself  from  the  metaphysical  skepticism  of  his  time.  He  be- 
lieved, as  did  most  of  his  contemporaries,  in  the  fundamental 


GOETHE  S  PHILOSOPHY. 


251 


unknowableness  of  natural  phenomena.  A  verse  of  his,  which 
expressed  this  at  that  time  popular  opinion,  was  well  known  and 
frequently  quoted.     It  is  as  follows : 


Nature's  "within"  from  mortal  mind 

Must  ever  lie  concealed. 
Thrice  blest  e'en  he  to  whom  she  has 

Her  outer  shell  revealed. 


Goethe  could  not  be  reconciled  to  this  view,  which  splits 
nature  in  twain  and  places  us,  including  our  inquiring  mind,  out- 
side of  nature  as  if  we  were  locked  out  from  her  secrets  for 
ever.  He  replied  to  Haller's  verses  in  a  short  poem,  which  is 
not  so  well  known  as  it  deserves  to  be : 


"Nature's  ivithin  from  mortal  miud'^ 

Philistine,  sayest  thou, 

"Must  ever  lie  concealed?" 

To   me,   my  friend,  and  to   my  kind 

Repeat  this  not.     We  trow 

Where'er  we  are  that  we 

Within  must  always  be. 


"Thrice  blest  e'en  he  to  zvhom  she  has 

Her  outer  shell  revealed" ! 

This  saying  sixty  years  I  heard 

Repeated  o'er  and  o'er, 

And  in  my  soul  I  cursed  the  word, 

Though  secretly  I  swore. 

Some  thousand  thousand  times  or 

more 
Unto  myself  I  witness  bore : 
"Gladly  gives  Nature  all  her  store. 
She    knows    not    kernel,    knows    not 

shell. 
For  she  is  all  in  one.    But  thou. 
Examine  thou  thine  own  self  well 
If  thou  art  kernel  or  art  shell." 


["In's  Inn  ere  der  Natur" — 
O  du  Philister!— 
"Dringt  kein  erscliaifncr  GeistV 
Mich   und  Geschwister 
Mogt'  ihr  an  solches  Wort 
Nur  nicht  erinnern ; 
Wir  denken :  Ort  ftir  Ort 
Sind  wir  im  Innern. 

"Gliickselig!  went  sie  nur 

Die  dussere  Schale  zveist!" 

Das   hor'   ich   sechzig  Jahre   wieder- 

holen. 
Ich  fluche  drauf,  aber  verstohlen. 
Sage  mir  tausend-tausendmale : 
Alles  giebt  sie  reichlich  und  gern, 
Natur  hat  weder  Kern 
Noch   Schale, 
Alles  ist  sie  mit  einem  Male. 


Dich  priife  du  nur  allermeist, 
Ob  du  Kern  oder  Schale  seist!] 


It  is  well  known  that  Goethe  was  an  evolutionist,  or  as  he 
would  have  called  himself,  a  transformationist.  He  believed  in 
the  plasticity  of  life  and  he  became  firmly  convinced  that  all  plants 


252  GOETHE. 

are  mere  variations  of  one  general  type,  that  they  are  all  kin  and 
their  variety  of  form  can  be  explained  by  metamorphosis  or 
transformation.  His  enthusiasm  for  this  idea  found  expression 
in  lines  addressed  to  his  wife  Christiana  under  the  title  ''The 
Metamorphosis  of  Plants."  Unfortunately  the  poem  is  written 
in  the  ponderous  meter  of  elegiac  distichs.     It  reads : 

THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  PLANTS.io 

Thou  art  confused,  my  beloved,  at  seeing  the  thousandfold  medley, 

Shown  in  this  flowery  mass,  over  the  garden  dispersed ; 
Many  a  name,  love,  thou  hearest  assigned ;  one  after  another 

Falls  on  thy  listening  ear  with  a  barbarian  sound. 
None  of  these  forms  are  alike  but  they  all  bear  a  certain  resemblance. 

And  a  mysterious  law  is  by  their  chorus  revealed. 
Yea,  'tis  a  sacred  enigma,  my  loveliest  friend ;  could  I  only 

Happily  teach  thee  the  word  which  will  the  mystery  solve ! 
Closely  observe  how  the  plant  is  developing  little  by  little. 

How  it  will  grow  by  degrees  changing  to  blossom  and  fruit ! 
First  from  the  seed  it  unravels  itself,  as  soon  as  the  silent. 

Motherly  womb  of  the  earth  kindly  allows  its  escape. 
And  to  the  charms  of  the  light,  which  is  holy  and  ever  in  motion, 

Trusteth  its  delicate  leaves,  feebly  beginning  to  shoot. 
Simple  the  force  is  that  slumbers  in  seeds ;  'tis  a  germ  of  the  future. 

Peacefully  locked  in  itself,  'neath  the  integument  hid. 
Leaflet,  and  rootlet,  and  bud,  still  void  of  all  color,  and  shapeless. 

Such  as  the  kernel,  while  dry,  holdeth  in  motionless  life. 
Upward  then  striveth  the  plant  and  it  swelleth  with  delicate  moisture. 

Forth  from  the  night  where  it  dwelt,  straightway  ascending  to  light. 
Simple  remaineth  its  shape,  when  the  green  first  makes  it  appearance ; 

And  'tis  a  token  like  this,  points  out  the  child  'mid  the  plants. 
Soon  though  an  off-shoot,  succeeding  it,  rises  on  high,  and  repeateth, 

Piling  up  node  upon  node,  ever  the  primitive  form; 
Yet  not  always  alike :  for  the  following  leaf,  as  thou  seest, 

Ever  produceth  itself,  fashioned  in  manifold  ways. 
Longer  and  more  indented,  in  points  and  in  parts  more  divided, — 

Forms  which  were  latent  till  now,  sleeping  in  organs  below. 
So  it  attaineth  at  length  its  predestined  and  noble  perfection. 

Which  in  these  numerous  forms,  fills  thee  with  wondering  awe. 
Ribbed  it  appears  here  and  toothed,  on  its  surface  exuberant  swelling, 

Free  and  unending  the  shoot  seemeth  in  fulness  to  be ; 

^°  First  printed  in  Schiller's  Musen-Almanach  for  1799  but  probably  writ- 
ten nine  years  before  that  date,  simultaneously  with  Goethe's  treatise  entitled 
"An  Essay  to  Explain  the  Metamorphosis  of  Plants"  (1790).  The  ideas 
therein  presented  which  are  an  anticipation  of  the  theory  of  evolution  did  not 
make  a  favorable  impression  and  elicited  only  vigorous  protest  on  the  part  of 
specialists.  Goethe  wrote  this  poem  in  order  to  prepare  the  public  for  his 
conception. 


Goethe's  philosophy.  253 

Nature,  however,  restraineth  with  powerful  hand  the  formation, 

And  she  perfecteth  the  plant,  gently  completing  its  growth, 
Yielding  the  juices  with  lesser  abundance,  contracting  the  vessels, 

So  that  the  figure  ere  long  nobler  effects  will  disclose. 
See  how  the  growth  of  the  foliage  here  on  the  edge  is  retarded, 

While  there  the  rib  of  the  leaf  fuller  becometh  in  form. 
Leafless,  however,  and  quick  the  tenderer  stem  then  upspringeth. 

And  a  miraculous  sight  will  the  observer  enchant. 
Ranged  in  a  circle  in  numbers  that  now  are  but  small,  and  now  countless, 

Gather  these  delicate  leaves  close  by  the  side  of  their  like. 
Here  at  the  axis  embraces  them  all  the  well  sheltering  calyx 

Which  the  corolla  presents,  brilliant  in  hue  and  in  form. 
Nature  thus  decks  them  with  bloom  in  a  noble  and  radiant  glory. 

Showing,  in  order  arranged,  branches  with  leaves  and  with  buds. 
Wonderment  fresh  dost  thou  feel,  as  soon  as  the  stem  rears  the  flower 

Over  the  scaffolding  frail  fringed  with  its  alternate  leaves. 
Flowers,  however,  are  only  the  prophets  of  further  creation, 

Truly  the  leaf  with  its  hues  feeleth  the  touch  of  a  god. 
It  on  a  sudden  contracteth  itself;  the  tenderest  figures 

Stand  as  yet  twofold,  divided,  but  soon  will  they  haste  to  unite. 
Lovingly  then  the  fair  couples  are  joined  in  a  bridal  alliance, 

Gathered  in  countless  array,  there  where  the  altar  is  raised. 
Hymen  is  hovering  o'er  them,  and  scents  of  an  odor  delicious 

Sweetly  their  fragrance  exhale  for  the  delight  of  the  world. 
Presently  numberless  germs  on  the  several  branches  are  swelling, 

Sweetly  concealed  in  the  womb,  where  is  made  perfect  the  fruit. 
Here,  we  see,  Nature  is  closing  the  ring  of  her  forces  eternal; 

And  it  attacheth  a  new  link  to  the  one  gone  before. 
So  that  the  chain  be  prolonged  forever  through  all  generations, 

And  the  whole  may  have  life,  e'en  as  enjoyed  by  each  part. 
Now,  my  beloved  one,  turn  thou  thy  gaze  on  the  many-hued  thousands 

Which  can  confuse  thee  no  more ;  for  they  will  gladden  thy  mind. 
Every  plant  unto  thee  proclaimeth  the  law  everlasting. 

Every  floweret  speaks  louder  and  louder  to  thee ; 
But  if  thou  here  canst  decipher  the  sacred  design  of  the  goddess, 

Everywhere  will  it  be  seen,  e'en  though  the  features  are  changed. 
Caterpillars  are  sluggish,  and  busily  butterflies  flutter, — 

i\Ian  however  may  change  even  the  figure  decreed. 
Oh,  then,  bethink  thee,  as  well,  how  out  of  the  germ  of  acquaintance, 

Gradually  habits  arose.     Seeking  each  other  we  met. 
Verily  friendship  and  love  began  to  flame  in  our  bosoms. 

Finally  Amor  procured  wondrously  blossom  and  fruit ! 
Think  of  the  manifold  touches  which  Nature  hath  lent  to  our  feelings. 

Silently  giving  them  birth,  all  of  them  different  in  form ! 
Yea  and  rejoice  thou  to-day  in  the  present!     For  love  that  is  holy 

Seeketh  the  noblest  of  fruits, — which  is  a  concord  of  thought. 
When  our  opinions  agree, — thus  we  both  will  in  rapt  contemplation. 
Lovingly  blending  in  one,  find  a  more  excellent  world. 

After  Bowying's  translation. 


254  GOETHE. 


[DIE  METAMORPHOSE  DER   PFLANZEN. 

Dich  vervvirret,  Geliebte,  die  tausendfaltige  Mischung 

Dieses  Blumengewiihls  iiber  dem  Garten  umher; 
Viele  Namen  horest  du  an,  und  immer  verdranget 

Mit  barbarischem  Klang  einer  den  andern  im  Ohr. 
Alle  Gestalten  sind  ahnlich,  und  keine  gleichet  der  andern ; 

Und  so  deutet  das  Chor  auf  ein  geheimes  Gesetz, 
Auf  ein  heiliges  Rathsel.     O,  konnt'  ich  dir,  liebliche  Freundin, 

Ueberliefern  sogleich  gliicklich  das  losende  Wort ! 
Werdend  betrachte  sie  nun,  wie  nach  und  nach  sich  die  Pflanze, 

Stufenweise  gefiihrt,  bildet  zu  Bliithen  und  Frucht. 
Aus  dem  Samen  entwickelt  sie  sich,  sobald  ilin  der  Erde 

Stille  befruchtender  Schooss  hold  in  das  Leben  entlasst, 
Und  dem  Reize  des  Lichts,  des  heiligen,  ewig  bewegten, 

Gleich  den  zartesten  Ban  keimender  Blatter  empfiehU. 
Einfach  schHef  in  dem  Samen  die  Kraft ;  ein  beginnendes  VorbiJd 

Lag  verschlossen  in  sich,  unter  die  Hiille  gebeugt, 
Blatt  und  Wurzel  und  Keim,  nur  halb  geformet  und  farblos ; 

Trocken  erhalt  so  der  Kern  ruhiges  Leben  bewahrt, 
Quillet  strebend  empor,  sich  milder  Feuchte  vertrauend, 

Und  erhebt  sich  sogleich  aus  der  umgebenden  Nacht. 
Aber  einfach  bleibt  die  Gestalt  der  ersten  Erscheinung; 

Und  so  bezeichnet  sich  audi  unter  den  Pflanzen  das  Kind. 
Gleich  darauf  ein  folgender  Trieb,  sich  erhebend,  erneuet, 

Knoten  auf  Knoten  gethiirmt,  immer  das  erste  Gebild. 
Zwar  nicht  immer  das  gleiche ;  denn  mannichfaltig  erzeugt  sich, 

Ausgebildet,  du  siehst's,  immer  das  folgende  Blatt, 
Ausgedehnter,  gekerbter,  getrennter  in  Spitzen  und  Theile, 

Die  verwachsen  vorher  ruhten  im  untern  Organ. 
Und  so  erreicht  es  zuerst  die  hochst  bestimmte  Vollendung, 

Die  bei  manchem  Geschlecht  dich  zum  Erstaunen  bewegt. 
Viel  gerippt  und  gezackt,  auf  mastig  strotzender  Flache, 

Scheinet  die  Fiille  des  Triebs  frei  und  unendlich  zu  sein. 
Doch  hier  halt  die  Natur  mit  machtigen  Handen  die  Bildung 

An,  und  lenket  sie  sanft  in  das  Vollkommnere  bin. 
Massiger  leitet  sie  nun  den  Saft,  verengt  die  Gefasse, 

Und  gleich  zeigt  die  Gestalt  zartere  Wirkungen  an. 
Stille  zieht  sich  der  Trieb  der  strebenden  Rander  zuriicke, 

Und  die  Rippe  des  Stiels  bildet  sich  volliger  aus. 
Blattlos  aber  und  schnell  erhebt  sich  der  zartere  Stengel, 

Und  ein  Wundergebild  zieht  den  Betrachtenden  an. 
Rings  im  Kreise  stellet  sich  nun,  gezahlet  und  ohne 

Zahl,  das  kleinere  Blatt  neben  dem  ahnlichen  bin. 
Um  die  Achse  gedrangt  entscheidet  der  bergende  Kelch  sich, 

Der  zur  hochsten  Gestalt  farbige  Kronen  entlasst. 
Also  prangt  die  Natur  in  hoher  roller  Erscheinung, 

Und  sie  zeiget,  gereiht,  Glieder  an  Glieder  gestuft. 
Immer  staunst  du  auf's  Neue,  sobald  sich  am  Stengel  die  Blume 


Goethe's  philosophy.  255 

Ueber  dem  schlanken  Geriist  wechselnder  Blatter  bewegt. 
Aber  die  Herrlichkeit  wird  des  neuen  Schaffens  Verkundung; 

Ja,  das  farbige  Blatt  fiihlet  die  gottliche  Hand, 
Und  zusammen  zieht  es  sich  schnell ;  die  zartesten  Formen, 

Zwiefach  streben  sie  vor,  sich  zii  vereinen  bestimmt. 
Traulich  stehen  sie  nun,  die  holden  Paare,  beisammen, 

Zahlreich  ordnen  sie  sich  um  den  geweihten  Altar. 
Hj'men  schwebet  herbei,  und  herrliche  Diifte,  gewaltig, 

Stromen  siissen  Geruch,  Alles  belebend  umher. 
Nun  vereinzelt  schwellen  sogleich  unzahlige  Keime, 

Hold  in  den  Mutterschooss  schwellender  Friichte  gehiillt. 
Und  hier  schliesst  die  Natur  den  Ring  der  ewigen  Krafte; 

Doch  ein  neuer  sogleich  fasset  den  vorigen  an, 
Dass  die  Kette  sich  fort  durch  alle  Zeiten  verlange, 

Und  das  Ganze  belebt,  so  wie  das  Einzelne,  sei. 
Wende  nun,  o  Geliebte.  den  Blick  zum  bunten  Gewimmel, 

Das  verwirrend  nicht  mehr  sich  vor  dem  Geiste  bewegt. 
Jede  Pflanze  verkiindet  dir  nun  die  ew'gen  Gesetze, 

Jede  Blume,  sie  spricht  lauter  und  lauter  mit  dir. 
Aber  entzifferst  du  hier  der  Gottin  heilige  Lettern, 

Ueberall  siehst  du  sie  dann.  auch  in  verinidertem  Zug. 
Kriechend  zaudre  die  Raupe,  der  Schmetterling  eile  geschiiftig, 

Bildsam  andre  der  Mensch   selbst   die  bestimmte  Gestalt ! 
O,  gedenke  denn  auch,  wie  aus  dem  Keim  der  Bekanntschaft 

Nach  und  nach  in  uns  holde  Gewohnheit  entspross, 
Freundschaft  sich  mit  Macht  in  unserm  Innern  enthiillte. 

Und  wie  Amor  zuletzt  Bliithen  und  Friichte  gezeugt. 
Denke,  wie  mannichfach  bald  die,  bald  jene  Gestalten, 

Still  entfaltend,  Natur  unsern  Gefiihlen  geliehn ! 
Freue  dich  auch  des  heutigen  Tags  !     Die  heilige  Liebe 

Strebt  zu  der  hochsten  Frucht  gleicher  Gesinnungen  auf, 
Gleicher  Ansicht  der  Dinge,  daniit  in  harmonischem  Anschaun 

Sich  verbinde  das  Paar,  finde  die  hohere  Welt.] 


Goethe  laid  more  stress  on  the  thoughts  contained  in  this  poem 
than  his  contemporaries,  and  he  was  displeased  that  his  friends 
did  not  see  the  same  deep  meaning  in  it  which  he  had  tried  to 
express.  He  was  not  less  unfortunate  with  another  argument 
in  favor  of  man's  kinship  to  the  animal  world  which  aroused  a 
storm  of  indignation  and  of  controversy,  but  the  truth  of  which 
has  since  been  recognized.  In  Goethe's  time  naturalists  main- 
tained that  the  essential  difference  between  human  and  animal 
skeletons  was  the  absence  of  the  intermaxillary  bone  in  the  hu- 
man jaw.  Goethe  succeeded  in  pointing  out  the  existence  of  this 
bone,  by  showing  that  it  had  coalesced  so  thoroughly  as  to  conceal 


256  GOETHE. 

its  separate  character.  The  existence  of  this  intermaxillary  bone 
remained  a  guarantee  to  Goethe  of  the  truth  of  the  theory  of 
evolution  as  well  as  of  the  interrelation  of  all  life  on  earth,  and 
this  opened  to  him  the  vista  of  greater  possibilities  in  man's  future. 

Goethe  gave  a  poetic  expression  to  these  thoughts  in  ''The 
Metamorphosis  of  Animals,"  presumably  written  in  1806,  in 
which,  besides  teaching  the  theory  later  on  propounded  by  La- 
marck that  habits  determine  the  forms  of  life,  he  emphasizes 
mainly  the  ethical  aspect  of  the  plasticity  of  nature  and  points 
out  that  perfection  can  be  attained  only  by  imitation. 

The  "Metamorphosis  of  Animals"  (written  in  hexameters, 
not  in  distichs)  in  spite  of  its  importance  has  never  as  yet  been 
translated.     We  offer  the  following  version : 

THE  METAMORPHOSIS  OF  ANIMALS. 

Durst  ye  ascend  to  the  peak,  to  the  highest  of  heights  on  the  summit? 
Well,  then,  I  proffer  my  hand,  and  here  you  behold  from  this  outlook 
O'er  the  wide  province  of  nature  a  view.     Oh  see,  how  the  goddess 
Spendeth  so  richly  her  gifts !     Yet  worries  she  not  as  do  mortal 
Mothers  who,  filled  with  anxiet}',  care  for  the  fate  of  their  children. 
'Twould  not  behoove  her.    She  guards  the  young  life  by  laws  that  are  twofold. 
This  is  her  highest  degree :  She  limits  the  scope  of  each  creature, 
Gives  it  a  limited  want  yet  supplies  it  with  means  without  limit, 
Easily  found  and  supplied.     In  motherly  kindness  she  favors 
Those  of  her  children  who  earn  her  affection  by  daring  endeavor. 
Untrained  they  swarm  into  life,  each  obeying  its  own  inclination. 

Truly's  each  creature  itself  its  own  purpose,  for  nature  creates  it 

Perfect;  and  it  in  its  turn  begets  progeny  that  will  be  perfect. 

Organs  and  members  are  shaped  according  to  laws  everlasting. 

Even  the  oddest  formation  its  prototype  latent  preserveth. 

Thus  is  each  mouth  well  adapted  to  seize  the  right  food  and  to  swallow 

That  which  is  fit  for  its  stomach, — the  one  may  be  tender  and  toothless. 

While  there  are  others  with  powerful  jaws;  but  one  organ  will  always 

Cooperate  with  the  others  for  a  wholesome  and  proper  nutrition. 

Also  the  feet  to  the  needs  of  the  body  are  wisely  adjusted, 

Some  of  them  long,  while  others  are  short,  yet  in  perfect  proportion. 

Thus  the  kind  mother  assureth  to  each  of  her  several  children 

Health  in  good  store ;  and  the  organized  limbs  of  each  animate  being 

Always  will  work  for  the  whole,  and  ne'er  counteract  one  another. 

Therefore  the  shape  of  a  creature  determines  its  life  and  its  habits, 

While  vice  versa  the  habits  of  life  will  react  on  the  organs 

Potently.     Any  formation  possesses  a  definite  order 

Which  yet  is  subject  to  change  through  external  effects  and  conditions. 


Goethe's  philosophy.  257 

But  in  the  innermost  self  of  the  noblest  of  nature's  creations 
Lieth  their  power,  confined  to  a  holy  mysterious  circle. 
And  these  limits  removeth  no  god ;  they  are  honored  by  nature, 
For  limitation  alone  maketli  possible  highest  perfection. 

Yet  in  the  innermost  self  a  spirit  titanic  is  also 

Stirring,  Avhich  fain  would  arbitrarily  break  through  the  circle, — 

Bold  innovation  begetting  new  forms  I     But  in  vain  it  aspireth. 

See  how  it  swelleth  one  part,  it  endoweth  with  power 

One  for  all  others,  and  lo  the  result !     Those  others  must  suffer. 

Thus  a  onesided  preponderance  taketh  away  the  proportion, — 

Yea,  it  destroyeth  all  beauty  of  form  and  harmonious  motion. 

Seest  thou  then  that  a  creature  has  preference  gained  over  others. 

Look  for  the  shortage  at  once  and  seek  with  confiding  inquiry. 

Then  thou  at  once  wilt  discover  the  key  for  the  varied  formations; 

As,  for  example,  no  animal  beareth  a  horn  on  its  forehead 

If  in  its  jaw  it  possesseth  its  teeth  in  perfect  completion; 

Wherefore  our  mother  eternal  e'en  if  she  endeavored  to  do  so, 

Could  not  in  all  her  creation  engender  such  forms  as  horned  lions. 

There's  not  enough  in  amount  for  constructing  the  horns  on  the  forehead, 

And  in  the  mouth  the  formation  of  teeth  that  are  perfect  in  number. 

'Tis  a  most  beautiful  thought  to  have  power  and  self-limitation, 

Liberty  and  moderation,  free  motion  and  law,  and  all  plastic, 

Preference  offset  by  want!     O   rejoice  that   the  Pluses  have  taught   thee 

Gently  for  harmony's  sake  to  yield  to  a  wholesome  compulsion. 

For  there's  no  ethical  thinker  who  finds  aspirations  sublimer. 

Truly  the  man  of  great  deeds,  the  artist,  the  poet,  the  ruler, 

He  who  deserves  so  to  be,  thus  onh-  his  worth  can  acquire. 

Highest  of  creatures,  rejoice !  for  thou,  thou  alone,  comprehendest 

Nature's  sublimest  idea;  and  what  at  her  best  she  created 

Thinkest  thou  over  again.     Here  take  thou  thy  stand  and  look  backward. 

Prove  all  things  and  compare,  and  learn  from  the  jMuse  what  she  teaches, 

Better  than  raving  by  far  is  assured  and  approved  comprehension. 


[DIE  METAMORPHOSE  DER  THIERE. 

Wagt  ihr,  also  bereitet,  die  letzte  Stufe  zu  steigen 
Dieses  Gipfels,  so  reicht  mir  die  Hand  und  offnet  den  freien 
Blick  in's  weite  Feld  der  Natur.     Sie  spendet  die  reichen 
Lebensgaben  umher,  die  Gottin ;  aber  empfindet 
Keine  Sorge  wie  sterbliche  Fraun  um  ihrer  Gebornen 
Sichere  Nahrung ;  ihr  ziemet  es  nicht ;  denn  zwiefach  bestimmte 
Sie  das  hochste  Gesetz,  beschrankte  jegliches  Leben, 
Gab  ihm  gemessnes  Bediirfniss,  und  ungemessene  Gaben, 
Leicht  zu  finden,  streute  sie  aus,  und  ruhig  begiinstigt 
Sie  das  muntre  Bemiihn  der  vielfach  bediirftigen  Kinder ; 
Unerzogen  schwarmen  sie  fort  nach  ihrer  Bestimmung. 


258  GOETHE. 

Zweck  sein  selbst  ist  jegliches  Thier,  vollkommen  entspringt  es 
Aus  dem  Schooss  der  Natur  und  zeugt  vollkommene  Kinder; 
Alle  Glieder  bilden  sich  aus  nach  ew'gen  Gesetzeii, 
Und  die  seltenste  Form  bewahrt  im  Geheimen  das  Urbild. 
So  ist  jeglicher  Mund  geschickt  die  Speise  zu  fassen, 
Welche  dem  Korper  gebiihrt,  es  sei  nun  schwachlich  und  zahnlos 
Oder  machtig  der  Kiefer  gezahnt,  in  jeglichem  Falle 
Fordert  ein  schicklich  Organ  den  iibrigen  Gliedern  die  Nahrung. 
Auch  bewegt  sich  jeglicher  Fuss,  der  lange,  der  kurze, 
Ganz  harmonisch  zum  Sinne  des  Thiers  und  seinem  Bediirfniss. 
So  ist  jedem  der  Kinder  die  voile,  reine  Gesundheit 
Von  der  Mutter  bestimmt ;  denn  alle  lebendigen  Glieder 
Widersprechen  sich  nie  und  wirken  alle  zum  Leben. 
Also  bestimmt  die  Gestalt  die  Lebensweise  des  Thieres, 
Und  die  Weise  zu  leben,  sie  vvirkt  auf  alle  Gestalten 
Machtig  zuriick.     So  zeiget  sich  fest  die  geordnete  Bildung, 
Welche  zum  Wechsel  sich  neigt  durch  ausserlich  wirkende  Wesen. 

Doch  im  Innern  befindet  die  Kraft  der  edlern  Geschopfe 
Sich  im  heiligen  Kreise  lebendiger  Bildung  beschlossen. 
Diese  Grenzen  erweitert  kein  Gott,  es  ehrt  die  Natur  sie : 
Denn  nur  also  beschrankt  war  je  das  Vollkommene  moglich. 

Doch  im  Innern  scheint  ein  Geist  gewaltig  zu  ringen, 
Wie  er  durchbrache  den  Kreis,  Willkiir  zu  schaffen  den  Formen 
Wie  dem  Wollen ;  doch  was  er  beginnt,  beginnt  er  vergebens. 
Denn  zwar  drangt  er  sich  vor  zu  diesen  Gliedern,  zu  jenen, 
Stattet  machtig  sie  aus,  jedoch  schon  darben  dagegen 
Andere  Glieder ;  die  Last  des  Uebergewichtes  vernichtet 
Alle  Schone  der  Form  und  alle  reine  Bewegung. 
Siehst  du  also  dem  einen  Geschopf  besonderen  Vorzug 
Irgend  gegonnt,  so  frage  nur  gleich,  wo  leidet  es  etwa 
Mangel  anderswo,  und  suche  mit  forschendem  Geiste ! 
Finden  wirst  du  sogleich  zu  aller  Bildung  den  Schltissel. 
Denn  so  hat  kein  Thier,  dem  sammtliche  Zahne  den  obern 
Kiefer  umzaunen,  ein  Horn  auf  seiner  Stirne  getragen, 
Und  daher  ist  den  Lowen  gehornt  der  ewigen  Mutter 
Ganz  unmoglich  zu  bilden,  und  bote  sie  alle  Gewalt  auf; 
Denn  sie  hat  nicht  Masse  genug,  die  Reihen  der  Zahne 
Vollig  zu  pflanzen  und  auch  Geweih  und  Horner  zu  treiben. 

Dieser  schone  Begriff  von  Macht  und  Schranken,  von  Willkiir 
Und  Gesetz,  von  Freiheit  und  Maass,  von  beweglicher  Ordnung, 
Vorzug  und  Mangel,  erfreue  dich  hoch  !  die  heilige  Muse 
Bringt  harmonisch  ihn  dir,  mit  sanftem  Zwange  belehrend. 
Keinen  hohern  Begriff  erringt  der  sittliche  Denker, 
Keinen  der  thatige  Mann,  der  dichtende  Kiinstler;  der  Herrscher, 
Der  verdient  es  zu  sein,  erfreut  nur  durch  ihn  sich  der  Krone. 
Freue  dich,  hochstes  Geschopf  der  Natur,  du  fiihlest  dich  fahig 


I 


GOETHE  S  PHILOSOPHY. 


259 


Ihr  den  schonsten  Gedanken,  zu  dem  sie  schaffend  sich  aufschwang, 
Nachzudenken.    Hier  stehe  nun  still  nnd  wende  die  Blicke 
Riickwarts,  priife,  vergleiche  und  nimm  vom  Munde  der  Muse, 
Dass  du  schauest,  nicht  schwarmst,  die  liebliche,  voile  Gewissheit.] 

The  two  poems  on  the  metamorphosis  of  plants  and  animals 
appear  in  the  usual  editions  of  Goethe's  poetry  framed  in  by  three 
little  poems  entitled  'Tarabasis,"  "Epirrhema,"  and  ''Antepir- 
rhema,"  which  strange-sounding  titles  are  chosen  in  imitation  of 
a  custom  of  the  chorus  of  the  Greek  stage,  whose  leader,  the  so- 
called  Corypheus,  addressed  the  public  in  a  general  adhortation 
not  necessarily  connected  with  the  plot  of  the  drama.  The  first 
address  'Tarabasis"  is  followed  by  the  *'Epirrhema,"  a  kind  of 
epilogue,  and  the  ''Antepirrhema"  a  counter-epilogue.  Like 
several  other  philosophical  poems  of  Goethe  here  quoted  they  are 
now  translated  for  the  first  time. 


PARABASIS. 

Joyous,  as  it  me  behooveth, 
Did  for  years  my  soul  aspire 
To  experience  and   inquire 
How  creative  nature  moveth. 

'Tis  the  eternal  one  and  all 
Which  appears  as  manifold, 
Small  things  great  are,  great  things 

small. 
Everything  has   its   own  mould. 

Same  remaining  in  mutations. 
Near  and  far,  and  far  and  near. 
Forming  thus  by  transformations — 
How  amazing  I  am  here ! 

EPIRRHEMA. 

Take   in   nature-meditation, 
Each  and  all  in  contemplation, 
Naught  is  inside,  naught  is  out, 
For  the  inside  is  without. 
Thus  shall  comprehended  be 
Holy  open  myster}^ 

Truth  of  semblance  pleasure  giveth. 
So  doth  serious  play. 
Merely  one,  there's  naught  that  liveth 
'Tis  a  manifold  alway. 


[PAR  ABASE. 

Freudig  war  vor  vielen  Jahren 
Eifrig  so  der  Geist  bestrebt, 
Zu  erforschen,  zu  erfahren, 
Wie  Natur  im  Schaffen  lebt. 

Und  es  ist  das  ewig  Fine, 

Das  sich  vielfach  offenbart; 

Klein  das   Grosse,  gross   das   Kleine, 

Alles  nach  der  eig'nen  Art. 


Immer  wechselnd,   fest   sich  haltend. 
Nail  und  fern,  und  fern  und  nah ; 
So  gestaltend,  umgestaltend — 
Zum  Erstaunen  bin  ich  da.] 

[EPIRRHEMA. 

Miisset  im  Naturbetrachten 
Immer  Fins  wie  Alles  achten ; 
Nichts  ist  drinnen,  nichts  ist  draussen ; 
Denn  was  innen,  das  ist  aussen. 
So  ergreifet  ohne  Saumniss 
Heilig  offentlich  Geheimniss. 

Freuet  euch  des  wahren  Scheins, 
Euch  des  ernsten  Spieles ; 
Kein  Lebendiges  ist  ein  Fins, 
Immer  ist's  ein  Vieles.] 


260 


GOETHE. 


ANTEPIRRHEMA. 

Behold  how  Nature  all  achieves, 
How  masterly  her  work  she  weaves. 
One  treadle  holds  thousands  of  threads 

connected. 
Her   shuttles   hither   and   thither   are 

flung, 
The  fibers  in  both  directions  strung, 

And    thousand    transactions    at    once 

are  perfected. 

This  she  has  not  by  chance  combined, 

But  from  eternity  designed, 

So  the  eternal  master  may 

His  web  and  woof  with  surety  lay. 


[ANTEPIRRHEMA. 

So  schauet  mit  bescheidnem  Blick 
Der  ewigen  Weberin  Meisterstiick, 
Wie  Ein  Tritt  tausend  Faden  regt, 
Die  Schifflein  hiniiber,  heriiber  schie- 

ssen, 
Die  Faden  sich  begegnend  fliessen, 
Ein    Schlag  tausend  Verbindungen 

schlagt ! 

Das  hat  sie  nicht  zusammengebettelt ; 
Sie  hat's  von  Ewigkeit  angezettelt, 
Damit  der  ewige  Meistermann 
Getrost  den  Einschlag  werfen  kann.] 


I 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM. 


BY  a  classic  we  understand  anything  in  art  and  literature  that 
has  become  accepted  as  a  model  of  perfection,  or  at  least 
that  complies  with  and  conforms  to  the  rules  of  the  recognized 
standard.  In  contrast  to  the 
classical  stand  all  those,  be  they 
artists  or  authors,  who  repu- 
diate rule,  or  standard,  or  au- 
thority and  proclaim  the  liberty 
of  genius.  These  opponents  of 
classical  taste  go  under  differ- 
ent names.  They  were  prom- 
inent before  as  well  as  after  the 
appearance  of  Goethe's  most 
classical  literature,  and  it  seems 
as  if  epochs  of  classicism  were 
constantly  alternating  with  anti- 
classical  tendencies. 

The  poets  of  the  time  of 
Goethe's  youth  reveled  in  the 
thought  that  genius  should  be 
untrammeled  by  conventionali- 
ties, traditions  or  considera- 
tions of  any  kind.  No  stand- 
ards, not  even  those  of  com- 
mon morality,  must  be  tole- 
rated, while  full  play  should  be  given  to  sentiment,  to  a  most 
vigorous  self-realization,  to  an  unimpeded  actualization  of  an 
exuberant  joy  of  life,  of  Lehcnshist  and  of  passion,  which  was 


K^^u-nT^  C/e'/Zyce^ 


-j^ 


A  CONTEMPORARY  CARICATURE 


262 


GOETHE. 


JOHANN  GOTTFRIED  VON  HERDER. 

After  a  crayon  drawing  from  life  by  Burg.   Original  in  possession 

of  Herder's  grandson,  Councilor  Stichling  of  Weimar. 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM. 


263 


justified  by  the  plea  that  passion  represented  the  promptings  of 
nature.  Nature  was  the  ideal  of  this  period,  and  ''Back  to  na- 
ture" was  the  slogan,  whose  note  had  first  been  sounded  by  Jean 
Jacques  Rousseau. 

The  leading  spirits  of  this  epoch,  viz.,  the  time  preceding  the 
efflorescence  of  classical  literature  in  Germany,  named  this  move- 
ment the  period  of  genius,  and  one  of  the  most  prominent  among 


MALER  MUELLER.^ 
After    an    engraving    by    Ludwig    E. 
Grimm,   1816. 


FRIEDRICH  MAXIMILIAN 
KLINGER. 

After  a  drawing  by  Goethe,  1775. 


them,  Friedrich  Maximilian  Klinger,  characterized  its  aspirations 
in  a  drama  which  in  its  days  was  much  admired,  but  is  now 
generally  known  only  for  its  title,  Stunii  iind  Drang,  i.  e.,  ''Storm 
and  Stress,"  a  title  which  afterwards  furnished  the  name  b^ 
which  this  period  of  German  literature  became  known.  Klingei 
was  born  February  17,  1752;  he  came  in  contact  with  Goethe  at 
Weimar  in  1776.  He  served  first  in  the  Austrian  and  then  in 
the  Russian  army,  rising  in  the  latter  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant- 

*  Friedrich  Miiller,  born  January  13,  1749  at  Kreuznach,  became  a  convert 
to  Roman  CathoHcism  and  died  at  Rome  April  23,  1825.  He  combined  with  his 
poetic  talent  other  artistic  gifts,  and  is  generally  known  as  "Painter  Miiller" 
(Maler  Miiller)  to  distinguish  him  from  the  many  other  Miillers. 


264 


GOETHE. 


general;  while  in  Russia  he  was  knighted. 
25,  1831,  at  St.  Petersburg. 


He  died  February 


if 


%i^^^ 


..-i?^ 


FRIEDRICH  SCHILLER. 
After  a  drawing  by  Jagemann. 


The   main   poets   of   the   classical    period,    Goethe,    Schiller, 
Herder  and  even  Lessing,  took  an  active  part  in  this  movement 


LITERATURE  AND   CRITICISM. 


265 


of  Storm  and  Stress,  or  as  it  was  then  thought  to  be,  of  un- 
tramnieled  genius.  In  1767  Herder  wrote  "The  Fragments, "^ 
-from  which  the  beginning  of  the  epoch  is  dated,  Goethe  wrote 
''Goetz"  and  "\\'erther,'*  and  Schiher,  "The  Robbers."  Even  tlie 
so])er  Lessing  was  not  a  little  under  its  influence  for  some  time, 
but  while  Klin<>er  and  Maler  Muller  never  outgrew  the  crudities 


THE  YOUNG  GOETHE. 

Crayon  by  Johann  Hieronymus  Lips,  1791,  in  the  Frcic  dcutsche 
Hochstift  at  Frankfort. 

of  this  naturalism  all  the  others  here  mentioned,  after  they  had 
developed  to  the  fulness  of  their  manhood,  sobered  down  to  a 
recognition  of  the  need,  or  perhaps  the  helpfulness  and  indis- 
pensableness,  of  rules,  whereupon  they  adopted  the  standards  of 
former  classical  periods,  especially  those  established  in  Greek 
^  Frosinente  ilbcr  die  nciicvc  dcutsche  Litfcratur. 


266 


GOETHE. 


antiquity.  Through  the  observance  of  rule  they  succeeded  in 
rising  above  nature  and  building  there  with  nature's  own  ma- 
terials a  realm  of  a  higher  and  purer  nobility,  the  realm  of  art. 


AUGUST  WILHELM  VON  SCHLEGEL. 
Painted  by  Hoheneck. 

The  triumph  of  these  greater  men  ended  the  period  of  storm 
and  stress  and  rendered  impossible  a  further  recognition  of 
the  untamed  geniuses.     The  epoch  of  the  men  of  nature,  or  raw 


LITERATURE  AND   CRITICISM. 


267 


genius,  of  the  spirit  of  rebellion,  ends  with  the  appearance  of 
Schiller's  ''Don  Carlos"  in  1787,  and  posterity  judges  of  this 
movement  merely  as  a  time  of  preparation  for  genuine  art  and 
the  higher  classical  literature  which  developed  out  of  it.     It  was 


LUDWIG  TIECK. 
Painted  by  Joseph  Stieler. 

the  age  of  the  immaturity  of  genius,  and  so  it  is  well  characterized 
as  a  period  of  storm  and  stress. 

Goethe  and   Schiller  as  well  as  the  other  classical  writers, 


268  GOETHE. 

among  whom  Herder.  Wieland  and  Lessing  deserve  special  men- 
tion, did  their  hest  work  when  they  allowed  their  poetical  effu- 
sions to  be  guided  Idv  rule.  To  be  sure  we  find  nature  in  their 
works,  yet  its  impulsive  impetuosity  is  moderated  by  the  dignity 
of  art. 

Both  the  young  Goethe  and  the  young  Schiller  were  for  some 
time  in  search  of  an  expression  for  the  highest  and  best,  and  in 
their  vounger  years  passed  through  a  period  of  wildest  irregu- 
larities wliich,  however,  they  gradually  outgrew  without  losing 
the  genius  and  vigor  of  their  early  aspirations.  In  his  best  years 
Goethe  was  apt  to  antagonize  those  who  would  take  nature  as 
the  only  guide,  and  for  a  long  time  he  was  prejudiced  against 
Schiller  because  he  disliked  his  drama  "The  Robbers."  In  his 
later  years,  however,  Goethe  broadened  and  without  losing  his 
preference  for  the  classical,  he  saw  more  and  more  the  significant 
part  which  these  wild  promptings  play  in  the  development  of 
man.  In  the  history  of  literature  the  pendulum  naturally  swings 
l)ack  from  classic  regularity  to  a  recognition  of  sentiment,  and 
in  his  old  age  Goethe  may  at  the  same  time  have  felt  that  nature, 
e\'en  in  her  irregularities,  is  dominated  by  a  law  which  will  grad- 
ualh'  assert  itself,  even  in  those  who  scorn  the  rule  of  art. 

Under  these  impressions  Goethe  wrote  a  sonnet  for  which  the 
preceding  remarks  will  serve  as  a  commentary.  In  this  he 
returns  to  a  recognition  of  the  rights  of  nature,  and  concedes 
that  nature  with  her  immediate  promptings  will  help  to  warm 
our  liearts,  Imt  after  ah,  he  remains  faithful  to  the  classical  ideal. 
The  sonnet  reads : 


Nature  and  art  each  other  seem  to  flee, 

Yet  unexpectedly  again  they  meet. 

All  my  ol^iections  now  are  ol^solete 
For  hoth  apparently  with  me  agree. 
Honest  endeavor  here  will  needed  be. 

And  when  in  hours  with  thoughtfulness  replete 

We  give  ourselves  to  art  with  zeal  complete, 
May  nature  warm  our  hearts  and  make  them  free. 

Thus  only  culture  can  attain  its  goal. 

In  vain  wild  spirits  will,  with  methods  faster 

And  broader,  seek  the  heights  of  pure  perfection. 


LITERATURE  AND   CRITICISM.  269 

Who  wants  great  things  must  practise  self-control ; 
In  limitation  shows  himself  the  master, 
And  liberty  needs  laws  for  wise  direction. 

[Natiir  iind  Knnst,  sie  scheinen  sich  zii  fliehen 
Und  haben  sich,  eh'  man  es  denkt,  gefunden ; 
Der  Widerwille  ist  auch  mir  verschwunden, 
Und  beide  scheinen  gleich  mich  anznziehen. 
Es  gilt  wohl  nur  ein  redliches  Bemiihen  ! 
Und  wenn  wir  erst  in  abgemessnen  Stunden 
Mit  Geist  und  Fleiss  uns  an  die  Kunst  gebunden, 
Mag  frei  Natur  im  Herzen  wieder  gliihen. 

So  ist's  mit  aller  Bildung  auch  beschaffen  : 
Vergebens  werden  ungebundne  Geister 
Nach  der  Vollendung  reiner  Hohe  streben. 
Wer  Grosses  will,  muss  sich  zusammenraffen ; 
In  der  Beschrankung  zeigt  sich  erst  der  Meister, 
Und  das  Gesetz  nur  kann  uns  Freiheit  geben.] 

On  reading"  this  sonnet  before  the  Vcrcin  alter  deutscher 
Studcntcn,  the  writer  learned  from  Prof.  J.  T.  Hatfield,  of 
Northwestern  University,  Evanston,  Illinois,  that  he  also  had 
translated  the  same  poem,  and  with  his  permission  it  is  here 
reprinted  from  his  series  of  ''Poems  from  the  German,"  pub- 
lished in  No.  10  of  William  S.  Lord's  little  leaflet  entitled  Noon  : 

Nature  and  Art  seem  ofttimes  to  be  foes, 
But,  ere  we  know  it,  join  in  making  peace; 
My  own  repugnance,  too,  has  come  to  cease, 
And  each  an  equal  power  attractive  shows. 
Let  us  but  make  an  end  to  dull  repose : 
When  Art  we  serve  in  toil  without  release, 
Through  stated  hours,  absolved  from  vain  caprice. 
Nature  once  more  within  us  freely  glows. 

All  culture,  as  I  hold,  must  take  this  course; 

Unbridled  spirits  ever  strive  in  vain 

Perfection's  radiant  summit  to  attain. 

Who  seeks  great  ends  must  straitly  curb  his  force ; 

In  narrow  bounds  the  Master's  skill  shall  show, 

And  only  Law  true  Freedom  can  bestow. 

A  later  translation  comes  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Thomas  H. 
Jappe,  of  Brooklyn,  New  York.     It  reads  as  follows : 


270 


GOETHE. 


Antagonistic  art  and  nature  seem, 
And  yet  are  one  without  your  knowing  how ; 
Gone  is  that  feeling  of  aversion  now, 
And  equally  attractive  both  I  deem. 


HEINRICH  HEINE. 
Painting  by  Moritz  Oppenheim. 

Honest  endeavor  is  no  idle  dream ; 
And  once  in  measured  moments  bound,  I  trow, 
To  art  with  mental  force  and  sweat  of  brow, 
Nature  in  us  again  will  freely  gleam. 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM. 


271 


True  culture  at  all  times  demands  the  same : 
Untutored  minds  will  ever  vainly  strive 
Perfection's  height  immaculate  to  scale. 
Focus  your  powers  all  if  high  you  aim! 
Confined  in  bounds  is  mastery  in  life, 
And  lawless  liberty  will  surely  fail. 

The  meaning  of  the  terms  Nature  and  Art  will  be  under- 
stood by  those  who  have  followed  our  expositions.     Xature  is 


uScrp  - 


NOVALIS. 


the  ideal  of  the  men  of  storm  and  stress,  of  impressionists,  of 
the  Romantic  school  of  sentimentalists.  Goethe  had  been  op- 
posed to  genius  that  was  sowing  its  wild  oats,  but  now  he  grants 
it  the  right  of  existence,  but  prophesies  that  it  will  not  reach 
the  perfection  of  art.     He  wants  liberty,   not  license,   even  in 


272  GOETHE. 

poetry,  and  declares  that  great  things  can  be  accomphshed  only 
by  self-control  and  self-limitation. 

Mankind  seems  to  tire  easily  of  self-control,  of  rule,  of  limi- 
tations and  likewise  of  the  classical.  The  pendulum  swings  to 
and  fro,  and  after  the  classical  period  Germany  experienced  a 
vigorous  revival  of  Romanticism.  Its  leading  spirits  were  the 
Schlegel  brothers  (of  whom  August  Wilhelm  is  the  more  im- 
portant), Tieck,  and  a  great  number  of  minor  poets  of  whom 
we  will  mention  Hardenberg  who  under  the  pseudonym  Novalis 
has  written  some  very  touching  religious  lyrics,  some  of  which 
will  remain  for  all  ages  a  most  noble  expression  of  Christian 
piety.  We  may  also  classify  Heine,  1797  (or  9)  to  1856,  with 
them,  although  he  was  least  tinged  with  the  reactionary  spirit 
and  a  hankering  after  the  poetry  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

In  our  own  days  we  are  witnessing  another  sentimental  revolu- 
tion wdiich  would  discard  all  norms  even  in  science  and  philosophy. 
It  appears  that  people  have  become  tired  of  definiteness  in  their 
conception  of  truth,  and  wish  to  replace  it  by  something  quite 
original,  the  result  being  aberrations  and  vagaries.  And  yet 
these  periods  are  natural  and  in  many  respects  even  justified  and 
helpful,  for  they  teach  mankind  to  dig  for  the  truth  again  and 
again;  for  the  truth  is  not  true  if  it  is  not  true  to  me,  and  nothing 
is  really  true  to  me  unless  I  have  searched  for  and  found  the 
truth  myself.  Therefore  we — every  one  of  us — must  discover 
the  same  old  truths. 

Says  Faust  in  the  first  act  of  Goethe's  great  drama : 

Vea.  the  inheritance  thy  fathers  left  thee, 
Earn  it  anew  to  really  possess  it. 

[Was  Du  ererbt  von  Deinen  Vatern  hast, 
Erwirb  es,  um  es  zu  besitzen.] 

Romanticism  has  produced  many  beautiful  works  of  litera- 
ture, but  after  all,  the  classical  productions  of  Goethe,  Schiller, 
Lessing  and  Herder  have  proved  more  enduring.  Romantic 
poetry  is  almost  forgotten  while  we  return  again  and  again  to 
the  great  masters  of  classic  art. 

*       *       * 

Goethe's  world-conception,  including  his  view  of  the  divine 


LITERATURE  AND   CRITICISM.  273 

power  that  acts  as  a  dispensation  in  the  nniverse,  was  mainly 
poetical.  To  be  snre  he  was  neither  anti-philosophical  nor  anti- 
scientific  :  bnt  he  abhorred  analysis,  dissection,  criticism,  in  brief 
all  negativism,  or  in  other  words  that  process  of  thought  which 
is  treated  with  a  sneer  by  ]\Iephistopheles  in  "Faust"  (I,  4)  : 

He  who  would  study  organic  existence, 
First  drives  out  the  soul  with  rigid  persistence, 
Then  the  parts  in  his  hand  he  may  hold  and  class, 
But  the  spiritual  link  is  lost,  alas ! 

[Wer  will  was  Lebendig's  erkennen  und  beschreihen, 
Sucht  erst  den  Geist  herauszutreiben, 
Dann  hat  er  die  Theile  in  seiner  Hand, 
Fehlt  leider  nur  das  geistige  Band.] 

Goethe  was  at  sword's  points  with  both  extremes,  the  pietist 
or  dogmatist,  and  the  iconoclast  or  negativist.  The  former  was 
represented  among  his  friends  by  Jacobi,  a  wealthy  privateer 
and,  as  an  author,  an  al)le  and  worthy  representative  of  the 
Protestant  faith;-  the  latter  by  Wolf,  a  philologist  and  the  first 
higher  critic  of  Homer,  and  also  by  Friedrich  Bahrdt,  a  liberal 
theologian  and  a  rationalist. 

Friedrich  August  Wc^lf,  l)orn  at  Haynrode,  near  Nordhausen, 
Germany,  Fel^ruary  15,  1759,  was  perhaps  the  best  classical 
scholar  of  his  age.  Having  completed  his  studies  at  Gottingen, 
he  held  a  chair  as  professor  of  classical  philology  at  Halle  from 
1783  to  1807;  whereupon  he  entered  tlie  Prussian  government 
service  at  Berlin,  and  died  at  Marseilles,  x\ugust  8,  1824. 

The  modern  spirit  of  our  classical  schools  which  is  now  dom- 
inant at  all  the  universities  of  both  continents,  Europe  and 
America,  may  l^e  said  to  date  from  him.  He  was  the  father  of 
textual  criticism,  and  his  work Prolcgoincna  in  Hoincniiu  (1794) 
was  the  first  attempt  at  a  scientific  treatment  of  the  Greek  na- 
tional epic. 

In  spite  of  Wolf's  great  merit  as  a  scholar  and  thinker, 
Goethe  had  an  intense  aversion  toward  him  because  he  had 
analyzed  the  Homeric  epics,  denied  their  original  unity,  resolved 
them   into   several    rhapsodies,    and   doubted    the   historicity   of 

^  Cf.  Alexander  W.  Craford,  "The  Philosophy  of  F.  H.  Jacobi,"  Corneirs 
Studies  in  Philosophy,  No.  6. 


274  GOETHE. 

Homer's  personality.  Goethe's  dislike  of  Christian  liberal  theo- 
logians and  their  higher  criticism  was  practically  based  on  the 
same  reason,  for  the  poet  loved  Christianity,  even  its  mythology 
and  legendary  excrescences.  He  objected  only  to  the  narrow- 
ness of  Christian  exclusiveness  which  called  all  other  religions 
pagan  and  would  not  allow  him  to  love  and  revere  the  gods  of 
Olympus. 

Those  who  had  attempted  critically  to  analyze  Christianity 
or  the  Christian  Gospels,  as  Wolf  treated  Homer,  became  at 
once  an  object  of  Goethe's  scorn,  and  the  man  upon  whom  he 
poured  out  the  full  vial  of  his  sarcasm  was  Prof.  Karl  Friedrich 
Bahrdt. 

Bahrdt  was  an  unfortunate  man  mainly  because  he  was  in  ad- 
vance of  his  age,  and  the  treatment  he  received  on  account  of 
his  liberal  theology  finally  proved  his  ruin  and  left  him  a  physical 
and  moral  wreck.  He  was  born  in  Bischofswerda,  Saxony, 
August  25,  1741.  He  was  professor  first  at  Leipsic  in  1766-68, 
then  at  Erfurt  in  1768-71,  and  finally  at  Giessen  in  1771-75. 
Dismissed  on  the  charge  of  heresy  he  became  director  of  the 
Philanthropin,  a  humanitarian  school  at  Marschlins  in  1775, 
whence  he  was  called  to  Diirkheim  as  superintendent  general  and 
pastor,  but  the  imperial  council  declared  him  incapable  of  holding- 
ecclesiastical  office  and  forbade  him  to  publish  any  of  his  writ- 
ings. Driven  into  exile  he  took  refuge  in  Prussia  where  he  lec- 
tured on  philosophy  and  philology  at  Halle,  1779-89;  but  having 
published  a  satire  in  tlie  form  of  a  comedy  entitled  /)(7.s'  Religions- 
edict  (1788)  in  which  he  castigated  the  Prussian  church  govern- 
ment, he  was  sentenced  to  one  year  imprisonment  at  the  fortress 
of  Magdeburg.  This  degradation  proved  his  ruin.  After  he  had 
served  the  sentence  he  was  broken  in  spirit  and  character,  and 
the  only  resource  left  to  him  for  making  a  living  was  to  con- 
duct a  dram  shop.     He  died  April  23,  1792. 

In  connection  with  Bahrdt  Goethe  tells  in  the  fourteenth 
book  of  ''Truth  and  Fiction,"  a  little  joke  played  on  Lavater, 
which  did  not  succeed,  however,  since  the  great  physiognomist 
came  out  victorious.     Goethe  says : 

''The  number  of  those  who  had  no  faith  in  physiognomy,  or 
at  least  regarded  it  as  uncertain  and  deceitful,  was  very  great; 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM. 


275 


and  several  who  had  a  hking  for  Lavater  felt  a  desire  to  try  him, 
and,  if  possible,  to  play  a  trick  on  him.  He  had  ordered  of  a  painter 
in  Frankfort,  who  was  not  without  talent,  the  profiles  of  several 
well-known  persons.  Lavater's  agent  ventured  upon  the  jest  of 
sending  Bahrdt's  portrait  as  mine,  which  soon  brought  back  a 
merry  but  thundering  epistle,  full  of  all  kinds  of  expletives,  and 
assertions  that  this  was  not  my   picture, — together  with  every- 


liiiliiiiiiiiiiili^-^^ 


'.jiiiiiB 


KARL   FRIEDRICH    BAHRDT. 


thing  that  on  such  an  occasion  Lavater  would  naturally  have  to 
say  in  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  of  physiognomy.  My  true 
likeness,  which  was  sent  afterwards,  he  allowed  to  pass  more 
readily." 

Goethe  first  became  acquainted  with  Bahrdt  through  his  book, 
"Eden,  or  Contemplations  on  Paradise  and  the  Events  which 
Took  Place  Therein."     His  review  of  Bahrdt's  expositions  in 


276  GOETHE. 

the  Frankfurter  gelchrte  Anzeigen  in  1772,  was  not  very  favor- 
able and  condemned  his  shallow  rationalism.  Nowhere  is  Goethe's 
dislike  for  a  critical  analysis  of  literature  more  forcibly  presented 
than  in  his  satire  on  Bahrdt's  "Latest  Revelations  of  God" 
which  first  appeared  in  1774  in  Giessen  as  a  separate  print.  In 
1775  it  was  reprinted  in  a  collection  entitled  "Rhenish  Must," 
and  in  1779  it  was  incorporated  in  Himburg's  Reprints.  It  is 
a  dramatic  sketch  little  known  outside  the  narrowest  circle  of 
Goethe  specialists.  For  unknown  reasons  it  has  not  been  in- 
cluded in  the  Diintzer  edition  of  Gocthcs  ]\\Tkc,  and  this  omis- 
sion may  be  accountable  for  the  fact  that  at  present  it  is  very 
little  known.  It  can  only  l)e  found  in  complete  editions  of 
Goethe's  collected  works.  In  the  index  it  appears  under  the 
catch-word  Prolog. 

So  far  as  we  know  it  has  never  been  rendered  into  English 
and  so  we  offer  a  translation  of  our  own.  The  title  which  is  a 
copy  of  the  title  of  Bahrdt's  book,  reads  as  follows : 

"Prologue  to  the  Latest  Revelations  of  God  interpreted  by 
Dr.  Karl  Friedrich  Bahrdt. — Giessen,  1774." 

Here  is  Goethe's  treatment  of  the  subject: 

(Professor  Bahrdt  in  evening  dress  at  his  desk  i^'riting.  His  ivife  enters, 
putting  on  her  cloak.) 

Mrs.  B.  Come  dear,  to  the  party ;  we  must  not  be  late, 
Nor  make  onr  friends  for  the  coffee  wait. 

(Professor  Bahrdt  zuithout  heeding  his  z^'ife  raises  his  paper  and  looks  at  it.) 

Prof.  B.  An  idea  happens  to  come  to  me, 

Thus  sliould  I  speak,  if  Christ  I'd  be. 

(At  that  uitnuent  a  trampling  as  of  hoofs  is  heard  outside.) 

Mrs.B.  (startled).  What  tramphng  hear  I  on  the  stair? 

Prof.  B.  'Tis  worse  than  students  I  declare, 

They  come  on  all  fours, — an  awful  din ! 

Mrs.  B.  What  fearful  beasts  are  coming  in! 

(Enter  the  four  evangelists.  Mrs.  Bahrdt  shrieks.  Matthezv  is  attended  by 
the  angel;  Mark  by  the  lion;  Luke  by  the  ox;  and  over  John  hovers  the 
eagle.) 

Matt.  We  learn  you  are  a  brave  good  man, 

And  do  for  our  Lord  as  much  as  vou  can. 


LITERATURE  AND   CRITICISM.  277 

In  Christendom  we  are  pushed  about, 
Hard  pressed  and  almost  crowded  out. 

Prof.  B.  Welcome,  dear  sirs,  but  I'll  say  right  soon, 
Your  visit  is  not  quite  opportune, 
For  a  party  of  friends  awaiteth  me. 

Jolui.  Children  of  God  they  surely  be. 

And  we  will  be  glad  to  join  you  there! 

Prof.  B.  I  fear  they  would  be  shocked  and  stare ! 

They  are  not  accustomed,  'tis  to  be  feared. 
To  flowing  garments  and  untrimmed  beard, 
Nor  are  beasts  admitted  as  visitors, 
They  would  be  driven  out  of  doors. 

Matt.  In  former  days  'twas  custom  thus, 

Since  Christ,  our  Lord,  appointed  us. 

Prof.  B.  Tut,  tut !  that  can't  be  helped,  and  so 
You  can  not  to  the  part}-  go. 

Mark.  But  tell  me,  what  do  you  expect? 

Prof.  B.  I  will  be  brief  and  quite  direct : 

Your  writings  are,  I  must  confess. 

Just  like  your  beards  and  like  your  dress; 

Or  like  old  dollars,  no  longer  at  par. 

Whose  mint-stamps  at  a  discount  are. 

Were  they  re-coined  with  copper  alloy, 

All  people  would  take  them  at  par  with  joy. 

Thus  you,  if  you  wish  to  count  again, 

And  be  acceptable  to  men. 

You  must  become  like  one  of  us, 

Beard  trimmed,  well  dressed  and  smooth, — just  thus! 

In  modern  fashion  and  debonair. 

That  changes  at  once  the  whole  affair. 

Luke,  the  artist. 1  see  myself  in  such  a  dress! 

Prof.  B.  You  needn't  go  far  for  that,  I  guess. 
My  own  will  fit  }OU ! 

The  Angel  of  Matt.  What  a  sight! 

An  evangelist  in  such  a  plight ! 

Matt.  St.  John  has  bidden  us  adieu, 

And  brother  Mark  is  leaving  too. 

{Luke's  ox  comes  too  close  to  Bahrdt  and  steps  on  him.) 

Prof.  B.  Call  off  that  beast  that  belongs  to  thee, 
Not  even  a  lap-dog  accompanies  me. 

Luke.  I  will  go  hence,  for  as  I  see. 

This  house  won't  suit  our  company. 


278  GOETHE. 

{Exeunt  the  four  evangelists  and  their  train.) 

Mrs.  B.  What  manners  !    I  am  glad  they  quit ! 

Prof.B.  Their  writings  shall  me  pay  for  it. 

*       *       * 

{Die  Fran  Professorin  tritt  auf  im  Put::,  den  Mantel  umwerfend.    Bahrdt  sitst 
am  Pult,  ga]ic  angezogen,  iind  schreiht.) 

Frail  Bahrdt.  So  komm  denn,  Kind!     Die  Gesellschaft  im  Garten 
Wird  gewiss  anf  uns  mit  dem  Kaffee  warten. 

Bahrdt.  Da  kam  mir  ein  Einfall  von  ungefahr. 
iSeiii  gcsc/ii-icben  Blatt  ansehend.) 
So  redt'  ich,  wenn  ich  Christus  war' : 

Frail  Bahrdt.  Was  kommt  ein  Getrappel  die  Trepp'  herauf? 

Bahrdt.  s'ist  iirger  als  ein  Studentenhauf. 

Das  ist  ein  Besuch  auf  alien  Vieren. 

Frail  Bahrdt.  Gott  behiit !  's  ist  der  Tritt  von  Thieren. 

{Die  z'ier  Evangelisten  treten  herein.  Die  Frau  Doktorin  thut  einen  Schrei. 
Matthdus  mit  dem  Engel;  Markiis,  begleitet  vom  Loiven;  Eukas,  vom 
Oehsen;  Johannes,  iiber  ihm  der  Adler.) 

Matthdus.  Wir  horen,  Du  bist  ein  Biedermann 
Und  nimmst  Dich  unsers  Herren  an ; 
Uns  wird  die  Christenheit  zu  enge ; 
Wir  sind  jetzt  (iberall  im  Gedriinge. 

Bahrdt.  Willkomm,  Ihr  Herrn !     Doch  thut  mir's  leid, 
Ihr  kommt  zur  ungelegnen  Zeit : 
Muss  eben  in  Gesellschaft  'nein. 

Johannes.  Das  werden  Kinder  Gottes  sein ; 
Wir  wollen  uns  mit  dir  ergetzen. 

Bahrdt.  Die  Leute  wiirden  sich  entsetzen ; 

Sie  sind  nicht  gewohnt  solche  Barte  breit 
Und  die  Rocke  so  lang  und  Falten  so  weit; 
Und  Eure  Bestien,  muss  ich  sagen, 
Wiirde  jeder  Andre  zur  Thiir  'naus  jagen. 

Matthdus  Das  gait  doch  Alles  auf  der  Welt, 
Seitdem  uns  unser  Herr  bestellt. 

Bahrdt.  Das  kann  mir  weiter  nichts  bedeuten ; 

G'nug,  so  nehm  ich  Euch  nicht  zu  Leuten. 

Markus.  Und  wie  und  was  verlangst  denn  Du  ? 

Bahrdt.  Dass  ich's  Euch  kiirzlich  sagen  thu' : 
Es  ist  mit  Eurer  Schriften  Art, 
Mit  Euern  Falten  und  Euerm  Bart 
Wie  mit  den  alten  Thalern  schwer — 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM.  279 

Das  Silber  fein  geprobet  sehr, 

Und  gelten  dennoch  jetzt  nicht  mehr. 

Ein  kluger  Fiirst,  der  miinzt  sie  ein 

Und  thut  ein  tiichtigs  Kupfer  drein ; 

Da  mag's  denn  wieder  fort  kursiren ! 

So  miisst  Ihr  auch,  wollt  Ihr  ruliren, 

Etich  in  Gesellschaft  produziren, 

So  miisst  Ihr  werden  wie  Unsereiner, 

Gepntzt,  gestutzt,  glatt — 's  gilt  sonst  Keiner. 

Im  seidnen  Mantel  und  Kraglein  flink, 

Das  ist  doch  gar  ein  ander  Ding! 

Lukas  der  Maler.  Mocht'  mich  in  dem  Kostiime  selin  ! 

Bahrdt.  Da  braucht  Ihr  gar  nicht  weit  zu  gehn, 
Hab'  just  noch  einen  ganzen  Ornat. 

DerEngelMatthdi.  Das  war  mir  ein  Evangelisten-Staat ! 
Kommt ! — 

Matthdus.  Johannes  ist  schon  weggeschlichen 

Und  Bruder  Markus  mit  entwichen. 

(Dcs  Lukas  Ochs  koinmf  Bahrdtcii  cii  nah,  cr  tritt  nach  ihm.) 

Bahrdt.  Schafft  ab  zuerst  das  garstig'  Thier ! 

Nehm'  ich  doch  kauni  ein  Hiindlein  mit  mir. 

Lukas.  Mogen  gar  nicht  weiter  verkehren  mit  Dir. 
{Die  Evangelisten  mit  ihrem  Gefolge  ab.) 

Frail  Bahrdt.  Die  Kerls  nehmen  keine  Lebensart  an. 
Bahrdt.  Komm!  's  sollen  ihre  Schriften  dran ! 

This  humorous  scene  contrasts  the  modern  professor  of  theol- 
ogy who  puts  on  style  and  belongs  to  society  with  the  original 
roughness  of  the  four  evangelists. 

Goethe  objects  to  the  higher  criticism  not  from  the  standpoint 
of  orthodoxy,  but  for  purely  literary  reasons.  He  dislikes  to 
have  the  Gospels  modernized,  because  he  prefers  them  to  remain 
rugged,  and  even  sometimes  crude,  as  in  part  they  are,  for  the 
same  reason  that  he  objects  to  a  critical  dissection  of  Homer. 
He  prefers  to  enjoy  a  literary  document  of  the  past  in  its  own 
native  originality. 

Bahrdt  was  not  offended  by  Goethe's  criticism,  and  every 
reader  will  feel  that  the  satire  is  good-natured  and  does  not 
contain  any  bitterness.  In  this  it  stands  in  sharp  contrast  to  other 
very  venomous  criticisms  of  Bahrdt's  works. 


280  GOETHE. 

When  Professor  Bahrdt  left  Giessen  in  1775  to  settle  in 
Marschlinz  in  Graubiinden,  he  traveled  by  way  of  Weimar  for 
the  special  purpose  of  calling  on  Goethe.  In  his  conversation 
with  the  great  poet  he  spoke  jokingly  about  the  satire  and  ex- 
pressed the  wish  to  preserve  a  good  entente  with  his  genial  critic. 

We  may  add  that  Goethe's  objection  to  men  like  Wolf,  the 
philologist,  and  Bahrdt,  the  rationalist,  was  to  a  great  extent 
unjust  or  at  least  one-sided,  for  we  need  critique  and  negation, 
not  as  an  end,  but  as  a  means  to  find  a  better  and  truer  affirma- 
tion. This  onesidedness  may  be  the  reason  why  the  poem  has 
been  overlooked  and  almost  forgotten.  Liberals  did  not  care 
to  quote  it,  and  dogmatists  knew  very  well  that  Goethe's  objec- 
tion to  higher  criticism  was  not  prompted  by  orthodox  loyalty. 
But  the  poem  is  characteristic  of  Goethe's  positivism  which  con- 
demned negativism  in  both  parties,  liberals  and  dogmatists. 

In  a  brief  poem  entitled  'The  Critic,"  Goethe  vents  his  wrath 
in  these  lines : 

I  had  a  fellow  as  my  guest 

Not  knowing  he  was  such  a  pest, 

And  gave  him  just  my  usual  fare; 

He  ate  his  fill  of  what  was  there, 

And  for  dessert  my  best  things  swallowed, 

Soon  as  his  meal  was  o'er,  what  followed? 

Led  by  the  Deuce,  to  a  neighbor  he  went, 

And  talked  of  my  food  to  his  heart's  content. 

"The  soup  might  surely  have  had  more  spice. 

The  meat  was  ill-browned,  the  wine  wasn't  nice." 

A  thousand  curses  alight  on  his  head ! 

'Tis  a  critic,  I  vow !     Let  the  dog  be  struck  dead !" 

— Tr.  after  Bozvring. 

[Da  hatt'  ich  einen  Kerl  zu  Gast, 

Er  war  mir  eben  nicht  zur  Last ; 

Ich  hatt'  just  mein  gewohnlich  Essen, 

Hat  sich  der  Kerl  pumpsatt  gefressen, 

Zum  Nachtisch,  was  ich  gespeichert  hatt'. 

Und  kaum  ist  mir  der  Kerl  so  satt, 

Thut  ihn  der  Teufel  zum  Nachbar  fiihren 

Ueber  mein  Essen  zu  rasonniren : 

"Die  Supp'  hatt'  konnen  gewiirzter  sein, 

Der  Braten  brauner,  firner  der  Wein." 

Der  Tausendsakerment ! 

Schlagt  ihn  todt,  den  Hund !  Es  ist  ein  Recensent.] 


LITERATURE  AND  CRITICISM. 


281 


Critics  are  mere  yelpers,  says  Goethe  in  another  poem,  and 
their  barking  only  proves  that  the  person  barked  at  is  their 
superior  in  attainments  or  position. 


Our   rides   in   all   directions   bend, 
For  business  or  for  pleasure, 
Yet  yelpings  on  our  steps  attend, 
And  barkings  without  measure. 
The  dog  that  in  our  stable  dwells, 
After  our  heels  is  striding, 
And  all  the  while  his  noisy  yells 
But  show  that  we  are  riding. 

— Tr.  after  Bozvriiig. 


[Wir  reiten  in  die  Kreuz'  und  Quer' 

Nach  Freuden  und  Geschaften ; 

Doch  immer  klafft  es  hinterher 

Und  billt  aus  alien  Kraften. 

So  will  der  Spitz  aus  unserm  Stall 

Uns  immerfort  begleiten, 

Und  seines  Bellens  lauter  Schall 

Beweis't  nur,  dass  wir  reiten.] 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  FAUST. 

GOETHE  described  characteristic  attitudes  of  himself  in  all 
his  heroes.  He  possessed  a  streak  of  Werther's  pessimism, 
of  Goetz's  romanticism,  of  Tasso's  impatience,  of  Egmont's 
gaiety  and  overconfidence,  of  Wilhelm  Meister's  eagerness  for 
self -development,  etc.,  but  in  Faust  the  poet  revealed  the  most 
intimate  aspirations  of  his  own  being  and  of  the  destiny  he  felt 
to  be  his  own;  and  this  is  true  even  if  we  grant  that  Faust  in- 
corporates many  striking  resemblances  to  Gottfried  Herder,  as 
Dr.  Giinther  Jacoby  has  attempted  to  prove.  For  this  reason 
it  may  be  truly  said  that  Goethe's  main  work  is  his  "Faust," 
which  he  had  begun  in  his  early  youth  and  finished  at  an  ad- 
vanced age. 

Like  Prometheus,  Faust  is  of  a  Titanic  cast  of  mind.  He  does 
not  bow  to  God  nor  does  he  fear  the  Evil  One.  He  cares  not  for 
his  fate  in  this  world  nor  in  the  next.  He  possesses  unusual 
strength  of  mind.  Him  the  thought  of  heaven  does  not  allure, 
nor  hell  terrify.  His  inl^orn  desire,  even  when  he  seems  to  sur- 
render it,  at  bottom  remains  to 

"...  .detect  the  inmost  force 
Which  binds  the  world,  and  guides  its  course." 

[Dass  ich  erkenne,  was  die  Welt 
Im  Innersten  zusammenhalt.] 

Faust  is  anxious  to  dare  and  to  do.  He  does  not  shrink  from 
danger,  or  shipwreck.  He  will  share  the  fate  common  to  all 
mankind,  will  enjoy  life's  pleasures  but  also  willingly  endure 
its  pain.  He  is  a  man,  and  though  he  wishes  to  be  a  man  in  the 
full  sense  of  the  word,  he  does  not  want  to  be  anything  else. 
When  Faust  sees  the  symbol  of  the  Earth-Spirit  he  exclaims: 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  283 

How  otherwise  upon  me  works  this  sign ! 

Thou,  Spirit  of  the  Earth,  art  nearer: 

Even  now  my  powers  are  loftier,  clearer; 

I  glow,  as  drunk  with  new-made  wine ; 

New  strength  and  heart  I  feel  to  do  and  dare, 

The  pain  of  life  and  all  its  joys  to  share. 

And  though  the  shock  of  storms  may  smite  me, 

No  crash  of  shipwreck  shall  have  power  to  fright  me !" 

[Wie  anders  wirkt  dies  Zeichen  auf  mich  ein! 

Du,  Geist  der  Erde,  bist  mir  naher ; 

Schon  fiihl'  ich  meine  Krafte  hoher, 

Schon  glith'  ich  wie  von  neuem  Wein. 

Ich  fiihle  Muth,  mich  in  die  Welt  zu  wagen, 

Der  Erde  Weh,  der  Erde  Gliick  zu  tragen, 

Mit  Stiirmen  mich  herumzuschlagen 

Und  in  des  Schiffbruch's  Knirschen  nicht  zu  zagen.] 

This  endeavor  to  be  a  man  with  men  is  expressed  again  when 
Faust  has  concluded  liis  contract  with  Mephistopheles : 

My  bosom,  of  its  thirst  for  knowledge  sated, 
Shall  not,  henceforth,  from  any  pang  be  wrested, 
Whatever  then  to  all  mankind  be  fated 
Shall  be  within  mine  inmost  being  tested: 
The  highest,  lowest  forms  I  mean  to  borrow, 
And  heap  upon  myself  their  bliss  and  sorrow. 
And  thus  my  own  soul  to  all  else  expanded, 
With  all  the  others  shall  at  last  be  stranded ! 

[Mein  Busen,  der  vom  Wissensdrang  geheilt  ist. 
Soil  keinen  Schmerzen  kiinftig  sich  verschliessen, 
Und  was  der  ganzen  Menschheit  zugetheilt  ist. 
Will  ich  in  meinem  innern  Selbst  geniessen, 
Mit  meinem  Geist  das  Hochst'  und  Tiefste  greifen, 
Ihr  Wohl  und  Weh  auf  meinen  Busen  haufen, 
Und  so  mein  eigen  Selbst  zu  ihrem  Selbst  erweitern, 
Und,  wie  sie  selbst,  am  End'  auch  ich  zerscheitern.] 

The  Faust  of  the  folk-legend  represents  the  spirit  of  the  Ref- 
ormation with  all  it  implies,  the  dawn  of  natural  science  and  the 
re-awakening  of  the  humanities.  He  studies  in  Wittenberg,  the 
university  of  Luther,  and  his  very  name  identifies  him  with 
Faustus,  the  companion  of  Gensfleisch-Gutenberg,  the  inventor 
of  the  black  art  of  printing.  Further  he  represents  the  Renais- 
sance, the  revival  of  a  study  of  the  classics  together  with  Greek 
art  and  its  noble  ideals,  pagan  though  they  were.  This  is  sym- 
bolized in  the  figure  of  Helen,  the  type  of  beauty  whom  Faust 


284 


GOETHE. 


WITCHES  CELEBRATING  WALPURGIS  NIGHT. 
By  Franz  Simm. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST.  285 

makes  visible  to  the  eyes  of  his  audience.  Incidentally  Faust 
also  shows  his  sympathy  with  the  ancient  Teutonic  paganism  by 
participating  in  the  witches'  festival  that  is  celebrated  in  the 
Walpurgis  night  on  the  Brocken.  But  this  is  not  all.  Faust  is 
an  inquirer  into  the  secrets  of  nature.  In  this  he  bears  a  resem- 
blance to  Roger  Bacon  who  in  a  lecture  before  the  students  of 
Paris  imitated  the  rainbow  by  letting  a  ray  of  light  pass  through 
a  prism,  the  result  being  that  his  audience  rose  in  a  general  up- 
roar shouting  that  he  practised  magic  and  was  in  league  with 
the  Evil  One.  In  compliance  with  the  popular  belief  of  the  age, 
Goethe  actually  represents  Faust  as  a  past-master  in  the  art  of 
magic.  The  Faust  of  the  folk-legend  visits  foreign  countries  by 
magic  means,  and  performs  most  wonderful  feats;  so  we  may 
say  that  he  incorporates  also  the  spirit  of  the  bold  explorers  and 
navigators  who  in  scorn  of  danger  crossed  the  unknown  seas, 
opened  new  regions  to  commerce  and  brought  back  to  their  home 
the  wealth  of  distant  countries. 

Faust  typifies  aspiring  mankind  and  has  his  predecessors  in 
all  those  characters  of  history,  literature  and  legend  who  find 
no  satisfaction  in  their  surroundings  but  dare  destiny  to  yield 
to  them  pleasanter,  better,  nobler  conditions  with  a  richer  and 
deeper  life.  Thus  Faust  embodies  all  those  features  which  Goethe 
himself  endeavored  to  acquire  and  which  he  possessed  in  a  high 
deo^ree. 

Goethe's  interest  in  the  traditional  Faust-character  showed 
itself  very  intensely  in  his  study  of  magic  lore,  and  we  know  of 
a  period  in  his  life  when  he  gave  himself  up  to  alchemy,  astrology 
and  kindred  pseudo-sciences  as  if  he  believed  in  their  teachings. 

In  ''Faust"  his  love  of  mysticism  comes  out  prominently  and 
he  did  not  study  the  mystics  without  being  fascinated  by  the 
poetry  of  their  views.  So,  for  instance,  the  profound  conception 
of  the  soul  as  a  microcosm  he  derived  from  Giovanni  Pico,  Count 
of  Mirandola. 

This  interesting  personality  was  born  on  February  24,  1463, 
and  died  November  17,  1494.  He  was  a  prominent  young 
Italian  nobleman  of  fine  figure  and  beautiful  face,  highly  edu- 
cated not  only  in  Greek  and  Latin,  but  also  in  Hebrew,  Arabic 
and  Chaldean.     Having  studied  two  years  in  Bologna  when  only 


286 


GOETHE. 


PICO  DI  MIRANDOLA. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST.  287 

fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old,  he  began  his  Wanderjahre  which 
lasted  seven  years,  visiting  the  learned  schools  of  Italy  and 
France.  His  philosophy  may  be  characterized  as  Platonism 
reconciled  with  the  doctrines  of  Aristotle ;  but  his  dominant 
interest  was  centered  in  mysticism,  and  he  was  the  first  to  main- 
tain that  the  truth  of  the  Christian  doctrines  could  be  proved 
through  the  Cabala.  Though  he  was  a  good  Christian  his  ene- 
mies threw  the  suspicion  of  heresy  upon  him,  and  his  first  little 
book  of  nine  hundred  theses  was  prohibited  by  papal  authority. 
But  after  the  publication  of  an  elaborate  Apologia  Pope  Alexan- 
der \T  declared  him  vindicated  in  a  document  dated  June  18, 
1493.  In  his  twenty-eighth  year  he  wrote  the  Hepf aphis  and  at 
this  time  suddenly  changed  his  habits  of  life.  Having  formerly 
been  a  favorite  with  women,  he  now  burned  all  his  love  poems 
and  became  an  ascetic.  He  renounced  his  share  in  the  princi- 
pality of  Mirandola,  gave  richly  to  the  poor  and  devoted  most 
of  his  time  to  religious  meditation.  When  he  would  have  fin- 
ished his  literary  labors  he  intended  to  give  away  all  his  property 
and  wander  as  a  bare-footed  friar  from  town  to  town  proclaim- 
ing salvation  through  Christ.  But  before  he  could  carry  out  this 
plan  he  died  of  a  fever  at  Florence  in  his  thirty-first  year.  So 
far  as  is  known  he  was  the  first  to  coin  the  word  ''macrocosm" 
denoting  the  whole  of  the  world,  which  is  described  so  beautifully 
in  the  first  scene  of  Goethe's  "Faust,"  where  Faust  revels  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  sign,  saying: 

Ha!  what  a  rapture  leaps  from  this  I  view.  ... 
How  each  the  whole  its  substance  gives, 
Each  in  the  other  works  and  lives ! 

[Ha,  welche  Wonne  fliesst  in  diesem  Blick.  ..  . 
Wie  alles  sich  zum  Ganzen  webt. 
Eins  in  dem  Andern  wirkt  und  lebt!] 

Bayard  Taylor  in  his  Notes  makes  the  following  interesting 
comment  on  this  monologue  of  Faust  when  he  beholds  the  sign 
of  the  macrocosm : 

''The  term  'macrocosm'  was  used  by  Pico  di  Mirandola, 
Paracelsus  and  other  mystical  writers,  to  denote  the  universe. 
They  imagined  a  mysterious  correspondence  between  the  macro- 


288 


GOETHE. 


cosm  (the  world  in  large)  and  the  microcosm  (the  world  in 
little),  or  man;  and  most  of  the  astrological  theories  were  based 
on  the  inflnence  of  the  former  upon  the  latter.  From  some  of 
Goethe's  notes,  still  in  existence,  we  learn  that  during  the  time 
when  the  conception  of  Faust  first  occupied,  his  mind  (1770-73), 
he  read  Welling's  Opus  Mago-Cahhalisticuin,  Paracelsus,  Valen- 
tinus,  the  Aiirca  Catena  Hoincri,  and  even  the  Latin  poet  Mani- 
lius. 

*'Mr.  Blackie,  in  his  Notes,  quotes  a  description  of  the  macro- 


FAUST  BEHOLDING  THE  EMBLEM  OF  THE  MACROCOSM. 

After  P.  Rembrandt. 


cosm  from  a  Latin  work  of  Robert  Fludd,  published  at  Oppen- 
heim  in  1619;  but  the  theory  had  already  been  given  in  the 
Heptapliis  of  Pico  di  Mirandola  (about  1490).  The  universe, 
according  to  him,  consists  of  three  worlds,  the  earthly,  the 
heavenly,  and  the  super-heavenly.  The  first  includes  our  planet 
and  its  enveloping  space,  as  far  as  the  orbit  of  the  moon ;  the 
second,  the  sun  and  stars ;  the  third,  the  governing  divine  in- 
fluences. The  same  phenomena  belong  to  each,  but  have  different 
grades   of   manifestation.      Thus   the    physical   element   of    fire 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST. 


289 


exists  in  the  earthly  sphere,  the  warmth  of  the  sun  in  the  heav- 
enly, and  a  seraphic,  spiritual  fire  in  the  empyrean ;  the  first 
burns,  the  second  quickens,  the  third  loves.  'In  addition  to  these 
three  worlds  (the  macrocosm),'  says  Pico,  'there  is  a  fourth 
(the  microcosm),  containing  all  embraced  within  them.  This 
is  man,  in  whom  are  included  a  body  formed  of  the  elements,  a 
heavenly  spirit,  reason,  an  angelic  soul,  and  a  resemblance  to 
God.' 

''The  work  of  Cornelius  Agrippa,  De  occulta  pliilosophia, 
which  was  also  known  to  Goethe,  contains  many  references  to 
these  three  divisions  of  the  macrocosm,  and  their  reciprocal  in- 
fluences. The  latter  are  described  in  the  passage  commencing: 
'How  each  the  Whole  its  substance  gives!' 

''Hayward  quotes,  as  explanatory  of  these  lines,  the  following- 
sentence  from  Herder's  Idccn  .zur  Philosophic  dcr  Gcschichte 
dcr  Mcjischhcit :  'When,  therefore,  I  open  the  great  book  of 
Heaven,  and  see  Ijefore  me  this  measureless  palace,  which  alone, 
and  ever3'where,  the  Godhead  only  has  power  to  fill,  I  conclude, 
as  undistractedly  as  I  can,  from  the  whole  to  the  particular,  and 
from  the  particular  to  the  whole.' 

''The  four  lines  which  Faust  apparently  quotes  ('What  says 
the  sage,  now  first  I  recognize')  are  not  from  Nostradamus. 
They  may  possibly  have  been  suggested  by  something  in  Jacob 
Boehme's  first  work,  'Aurora,  or  the  Rising  Dawn,'  but  it  is  not 
at  all  necessary  that  they  should  be  an  actual  quotation." 

Faust  despairs  of  the  possibility  of  knowledge  and  the  useful- 
ness of  science.  This,  however,  means  the  pseudo-science  of 
magic,  the  occulta  scicntia,  that  great  hope  of  the  scientists  of 
the  iMiddle  Ages.     Faust  says : 


I've  studied  now   Philosophy 
And  Jurisprudence,  Medicine, — 
And  even,  alas !  Theology, — 
From  end  to  end,  with  labor  keen ; 
And  here,  poor  fool !  with  all  my  lore 
I  stand,  no  wiser  than  before : 
I'm  Magister — yea,  Doctor — hight. 
And  straight  or  cross-wise,  wrong  or 

right, 
These  ten  years  long,  with  many  woes, 
I've  led  my  scholars  by  the  nose, — 


[Habe  nun,  ach,  Philosophie, 
Juristerei  und  Medizin 
Und  leider  audi  Theologie 
Durchaus  studirt,  mit  heissem   Be- 
rn iihn  ! 
Da  steh'  ich  nun,  ich  armer  Thor, 
Und  bin  so  klug  als  wie  zuvor ; 
Heisse  Magister,  heisse  Doktor  gar 
Und  ziehe  schon  an  die  zehen  Jahr' 
Herauf,  herab  und  quer  und  krumm 
Meine  Schiiler  an  der  Nase  herum — 


290 


GOETHE. 


FAUST  IN  HIS  STUDY. 
By  A.  von  Kreling. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST.  291 

And  see  that  nothing  can  be  known !       Und  sehe,  dass  wir  nichts  wissen  kon- 
Forsooth,  that  cuts  me  to  the  bone.  nen. 

Das   will   mir    schier    das    Herz    ver- 
brennen,] 

In  his  conversation  with  Wagner  he  exclaims    (Scene  II)  : 

O  happy  he,  who  still  renews 
The  hope,  from  Error's  deeps  to  rise  forever ! 
That  which  one  does  not  know,  one  needs  to  use ; 
And  what  one  knows,  one  uses  never. 

[O  gliicklich,  wer  noch  hoffen  kann. 
Aus  diesem  Meer  des  Irrthums  aufzutauchen ! 
Was  man  nicht  weiss,  das  eben  brauchte  man, 
Und  was  man  weiss,  kann  man  nicht  brauchen.] 

Faust's  despondency  recalls  an  actual  fact  in  the  life  of 
Agrippa  von  Nettesheim,  one  of  his  prototypes  who,  having 
written  a  large  work  Dc  occulta  scicufia,  wrote  a  book  at  the 
end  of  his  career    which  bore  the  title  Dc  vanitatc  scicntiarwn. 

If  science  fails,  if  knowledge  is  impossible,  and  if  reason  can 
not  be  relied  upon,  mankind  is  left  without  a  guide.  Hence 
Faust's  despair  is  well  supplemented  by  the  cynical  advice  which 
Mephistopheles  gives  to  the  student.  These  comments  are  full 
of  satire,  criticising  the  actual  conditions  of  the  sciences  as 
practised  by  mediocre  and  self-seeking  men. 

Overcome  by  his  despondency  Faust  is  disgusted  with  the 
search  for  knowledge  and  simply  wishes  to  be  a  man  among 
men,  expecting  thereby  to  quench  the  thirst  of  his  soul  with 
the  inane  vanities  of  life  with  which  common  people  are  satis- 
fied. In  this  frame  of  mind  he  concludes  his  pact  with  ^leph- 
istopheles  which  is  important  for  the  comprehension  of  Goethe's 
plan,  and  we  should  notice  the  very  words  of  the  condition  under 
which  Faust  accepts  the  service  of  Mephistopheles  and  forfeits 
his  soul  in  the  next  world.  Since  the  scene  is  of  such  significance 
we  quote  its  most  important  passage  as  follows : 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Wilt  thou  to  me  entrust 

Thy  steps  through  life,  I'll  guide  thee, — 

Will  willingly  walk  beside  thee, — 


292 


GOETHE. 


MEPHISTOPHELES  AND  THE  STUDENT. 
By  A.  Liezen-Mayer. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF    FAUST.  293 

Will  serve  thee  at  once  and  forever 

With  best  endeavor, 

And,  if  thou  art  satisfied. 

Will  as  servant,  slave,  with  thee  abide. 

FAUST. 

And  what  shall  be  my  counter-service  therefor? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The  time  is  long :  thou  needst  not  now  insist. 

FAUST. 

No — no !     The  Devil  is  an  egotist, 

And  is  not  apt,  without  a  why  or  wherefore, 

"For  God's  sake,''  others  to  assist. 

Speak  thy  conditions  plain  and  clear ! 

With  such  a  ser^•ant  danger  comes.  I  fear. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Here,  an  unwearied  slave,  I'll  wear  thy  tether, 
And  to  thine  every  nod  obedient  be : 
When  There  again  we  come  together. 
Then  shalt  thou  do  the  same  for  me. 

FAUST. 

The  There  my  scruples  nought  increases. 

When  thou  hast  dashed  this  world  to  pieces, 

The  other,  then,  its  place  may  fill. 

Here,  on  this  earth,  my  pleasures  have  their  sources ; 

Yon  sun  beholds  my  sorrows  in  his  courses ; 

And  when  from  these  my  life  itself  divorces. 

Let  happen  all  that  can  or  will ! 

I'll  hear  no  more ;  't  is  vain  to  ponder 

If  there  we  cherish  love  or  hate, 

Or,  in  the  spheres  we  dream  of  yonder, 

A  High  and  Low  our  souls  await. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

In  this  sense,  even,  canst  thou  venture. 
Come,  bind  thyself  by  prompt  indenture, 
And  thou  mine  arts  with  joy  shalt  see: 
What  no  man  ever  saw,  I'll  give  to  thee. 

FAUST. 

Canst  thou,  poor  Devil,  give  me  whatsoever 
When  was  a  human  soul,  in  its  supreme  endeavor, 
E'er  understood  by  such  as  thou? 
Yet,  hast  thou  food  which  never  satiates,  now — • 
The  restless,  ruddy  gold  hast  thou, 


294 


GOETHE. 


MEPHISTOPHELES  AT  THE  DOOR  OF  FAUST'S  STUDY. 

By  A.  Liezen-Mayer. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF    FAUST. 


295 


That  runs,  quicksilver-like,  one's  fingers  through, — 

A  game  whose  winnings  no  man  ever  knew, — 

A  maid,  that,  even  from  my  breast. 

Beckons  my  neighbor  with  her  wanton  glances, 

And  Honor's  godlike  zest, 

The  meteor  that  a  moment  dances, — • 

Show  me  the  fruits  that,  ere  they're  gathered,  rot. 

And  trees  that  daily  with  new  leafage  clothe  them! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Such  a  demand  alarms  me  not : 

Such  treasures  have  I,  and  can  show  them. 


SIGNING  THE  CONTRACT. 
By  Franz  Simm. 

But  still  the  time  may  reach  us,  good  my  friend, 
When  peace  we  crave  and  more  luxurious  diet. 


FAUST. 

When  on  an  idler's  bed  I  stretch  myself  in  quiet. 
There  let,  at  once,  my  record  end ! 
Canst  thou  with  lying  flattery  rule  me, 


296  GOETHE. 

Until,  self-pleased,  myself  I  see, — 
Canst  thou  with  rich  enjoyment  fool  me, 
Let  that  day  be  the  last  for  me ! 
The  bet  I  offer. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Done ! 

FAUST. 

And  heartily ! 
When  thus  I  hail  the  moment  flying: 
"Ah,  still  delay — thou  art  so  fair!" 
Then  bind  me  in  thy  bonds  undying, 
My  final  ruin  then  declare ! 
Then  let  the  death-bell  chime  the  token, 
Then  art  thou  from  thy  service  free ! 
The  clock  may  stop,  the  hand  be  broken, 
Then  Time  be  finished  unto  me! 

[MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Doch  willst  Du  mit  mir  vereint 

Deine  Schritte  durchs  Leben  nehmen. 

So  will  ich  mich  gern  bequemen, 

Dein  zu  sein  auf  der  Stelle. 

Ich  bin  Dein  Geselle, 

Und  mach'  ich  Dir's  recht. 

Bin  ich  Dein  Diener.  bin  Dein  Knecht ! 

FAUST. 

Und  was  soil  ich  dagegen  Dir  erfiillen? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Dazu  hast  Du  noch  eine  lange  Frist. 

FAUST. 

Nein,  nein  !     Der  Teufel  ist  ein  Egoist 

Und  thut  nicht  leicht  um  Gottes  willen. 

Was  einem  Andern  niitzlich  ist. 

Sprich  die  Bedingung  deutlich  aus ; 

Ein  solcher  Diener  bringt  Gefahr  in's  Haus. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

lich  will  mich  hier  zu  Deinem  Dienst  verbinden, 
Auf  Deinen  Wink  nicht  rasten  und  nicht  ruhn ; 
Wenn  wir  uns  driiben  wiederfinden, 
So  sollst  Du  mir  das  Gleiche  thun. 

FAUST. 

Das  Driiben  kann  mich  wenig  kiimmern; 
Schlagst  Du  erst  diese  Welt  zu  Trummern, 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  297 

Die  andre  mag  darnach  entstehn. 
Alls  dieser  Erde  quillen  meine  Freuden, 
Und  diese  Sonne  scheinet  meinen  Leiden ; 
Kann  ich  mich  erst  von  ihnen  scheiden, 
Dann  mag,  was  will  und  kann,  geschehn. 
Davon  will  ich  nichts  weiter  horen, 
Ob  man  audi  kiinftig  hasst  und  liebt, 
Und  ob  es  auch  in  jenen  Spharen 
Ein  Oben  oder  Unten  giebt. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

In  diesem  Sinne  kannst  Du's  wagen. 
Verbinde  Dich ;  Du  sollst  in  diesen  Tagen 
Mit  Freuden  meine  Kiinste  sehn. 
Ich  gebe  Dir,  was  noch  kein  Mensch  gesehn. 

FAUST. 

Was  willst  Du  armer  Teufel  geben? 

Ward  eines  Menschen  Geist  in  seinem  hohen  Streben 

Von  Deinesgleichen  je  gefasst? 

Doch  hast  Du  Speise,  die  nicht  sattigt,  hast 

Du  rothcs  Gold,  das  ohne  Rast, 

Quecksilber  gleich,  Dir  in  der  Hand  zerrinnt, 

Ein  Spiel,  bei  dem  man  nie  gewinnt, 

Ein  Madchen,  das  an  meiner  Brust 

Mit  Aeugeln  schon  dem  Nachbar  sich  verbindet, 

Der  Ehre  schone  Gotterlust, 

Die  wie  ein  Meteor  verschwindet. 

Zeig  mir  die  Frucht,  die  fault,  eh  man  sie  bricht, 

Und  Baume,  die  sich  taglich  neu  begriinen ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Ein  solcher  Auftrag  schreckt  mich  nicht, 

Mit  solchen  Schatzen  kann  ich  dienen. 

Doch,  guter  Freund,  die  Zeit  kommt  auch  heran, 

Wo  wir  was  Gut's  in  Ruhe  schmausen  mogen. 

FAUST. 

Werd'  ich  beruhigt  je  mich  auf  ein  Faulbett  legen, 

So  sei  es  gleich  um  mich  gethan ! 

Kannst  Du  mich  schmeichelnd  je  beliigen, 

Dass  ich  mir  selbst  gefallen  mag, 

Kannst  Du  mich  mit  Genuss  betriigen : 

Das  sei  fiir  mich  der  letzte  Tag ! 

Die   Wette  biet'   ich! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Top! 


298 


GOETHE. 


FAUST. 

Und  Schlag  auf  Schlag! 
Werd'  ich  znm  Augenblicke  sagen : 
Verweile  doch !  Du  hist  so  schoii ! 
Dann  magst  Du  mich  in  Fesseln  schlagen, 
Dann  will  ich  gern  zu  Grunde  gehn ! 
Dann  mag  die  Todtenglocke  scliallen, 
Dann  l)ist  Du  Deines  Dienstes  frei, 
Die  Uhr  mag  stelin,  der  Zeiger  fallen, 
Es  sei   die   Zeit   fiir  mich   vorhei!] 

At  the  time  when  the  1^'aiist  legend  trx^k  shape  nothing  extra- 
ordinan'  conld  l)e  done  except  with  the  help  of  the  Evil  One, 


FAUST'S  LAST  HOURS  AND  DEATH. 


and  the  reckless  and  wicked  men  who  obtained  such  assistance 
were  doomed  to  eternal  damnation.  According  to  the  original 
plan  of  the  Faust-legend,  Faust  was  indeed  lost,  for  the  old  folk- 
lore story  is  written  from  the  standpoint  of  orthodox  Catholicism. 
It  makes  Faust  conclude  his  pact  with  the  Devil  without  any 


STUDYING  BLACK  MAGIC.  CONJURING  THE   DEVIL. 


SOME  PLEASANTRIES  OF  MIRACLES  AND  CONJURA- 

BLACK  MAGIC.  TION. 

After  Scheible's  reproductions  from  Widmann's  Faust. 


300 


GOETHE. 


alternative,  and  when  the  time  is  up,  his  soul  is  forfeited  and  the 
Devil  carries  him  away  to  hell. 

It  is  strange,  however,  that  Protestant  writers  took  a  greater 
interest  in  the  story  than  Catholics.  Perhaps  they  felt  that  the 
problem  of  the  man  who  risked  even  the  salvation  of  his  soul  for 
the  sake  of  expanding  his  knowledge  of  and  control  over  the 
powers  of  nature  touched  their  own  experience. 

The  first  and  most  extensive  treatment  of  the  Faust  legend  is 
that   of   the    Volkshuch^   which   was   dramatized    by   Marlowe, 


FAUST  CONJURING  MEPHISTOPHELES. 


Shakespeare's  famous  contemporary.  We  here  reproduce  a  rare 
print  published  as  a  title  vignette  in  the  first  edition  of  Marlowe's 
drama  representing  Faust  conjuring  the  Devil. 

During  the  period  of  Storm  and  Stress  almost  every  German 
poet  treated  the  legend  of  Faust,  and  the  best  known  of  these 

^  For  details  of  the  Faust  legend  as  treated  by  Marlowe  and  in  the  Volks- 
buch  see  the  author's  History  of  the  Devil,  pp.  422-429. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  301 

versions  is  the  drama  by  Klinger,  a  powerful  play,  but  not  with- 
out the  faults  of  the  vigorous  but  immature  spirits  of  his  time. 
Lessing  wrote  a  ''Faust"  which  by  an  unfortunate  accident  was 
lost  in  the  mails.  A  synopsis  of  his  plan  is  contained  in  his  Col- 
lected Works.  Lenau's  "Faust"  is  not  very  remarkable  but  it 
is  still  known  and  read. 

The  motive  of  Faust's  relation  to  Mephistopheles  is  taken 
from  the  old  legend  of  Theophilus  who  in  his  ambition  to  excel 
all  others  in  fame  and  ecclesiastical  dignity  makes  a  contract 
with  the  Devil,  but  repents,  does  penance  and  is  finally  saved  by 
the  intercession  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  who  compels  the  Devil  to 
surrender  his  claim  to  the  soul  of  Theophilus.  The  lesson  of 
this  legend  on  the  one  hand  is  to  warn  good  Christians  to  beware 
of  the  Devil  who  is  on  the  qui  vivc  to  catch  the  souls  even  of  the 
saints,  and  on  the  other  hand  to  declare  the  unlimited  power  of 
the  Church  to  rescue  from  distress  and  to  save  the  pious  from  the 
very  clutches  of  Satan. 

The  Theophilus  legend  was  a  favorite  story  with  pious 
Christians  throughout  the  Middle  Ages,  and  we  have  a  thirteenth 
century  manuscript  illuminated  by  Monk  Conrad  of  the  Scheiern 
monastery  which  is  now  preserved  in  the  Library  of  Munich. 
The  picture  reproduced  from  this  medieval  book  shows  first  how 
Theophilus  is  prompted  by  the  Devil  of  Vanity  to  give  alms. 
Repenting  the  contract  he  had  made,  he  is  shown  in  the  second 
picture  praying  to  the  Virgin  Alary.  In  the  third  picture  he 
does  penance  and  an  angel  delivers  to  him  the  handwriting  of 
the  contract.  In  the  fourth  picture  he  confesses  to  the  bishop 
and  delivers  into  his  hands  the  document  restored  to  him  by  the 
grace  of  Mary. 

But  while  there  is  hope  for  a  man  like  Theophilus  who  con- 
fesses his  sin,  repents,  seeks  the  assistance  of  the  Church,  sub- 
mits to  discipline  and  does  penance,  there  is  no  salvation  for 
Faust,  the  representative  of  Protestantism.  He  has  cut  himself 
loose  from  the  Church  that  alone  can  save,  and  so  he  foregoes 
the  advantage  of  the  Church's  means  of  grace.  Marlowe  and  all 
the  many  other  poets  who  dramatized  the  Faust  legend  before 
Goethe  adopt  the  principle  of  the  old  folk-lore  story  that  regards 


302 


GOETHE. 


Faust   as   lost   and    quite   beyond   redemption.      Even   Goethe's 
original  intention  had  been  the  same.     In  the  prison  scene  Faust 


THE  LEGEND  OF  THEOPHILUS. 
comes  to  the  rescue  of  Gretchen  but  finds  her  in  a  dreadful  state 
of  insanity.     He  urges  her  to  leave,  but  she  answers : 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF    FAUST. 


303 


GRETCHEN  IN  PRISON. 
By  Franz  Simm. 


304  GOETHE. 

If  the  grave  is  there,  [1st  das  Grab  drauss, 

Death  lying  in  wait,  then  come!  Lauert  der  Tod,  so  komm! 

From  here  to  eternal  rest:  Von  hier  ins  ewige  Ruhebett, 

No  further  step — no,  no  !  Und  weiter  keinen  Schritt — ] 

Faust  tries  first  persuasion  and  then  force ;  she  does  not  yield 
but  stays.  In  the  meantime  day  dawns  and  when  Mephistopheles 
calls  Faust,  ''Hither  to  me!"  he  goes  leaving  Gretchen  to  her 
doom.  This  conclusion  of  the  first  part  was  intended  to  indicate 
that  while  Gretchen's  soul  is  purified  Faust  remains  under  the 
influence  of  Mephistopheles. 

Yet  Goethe  had  made  Faust  too  human,  too  ideally  human, 
not  to  have  that  redeeming  feature  which  would  make  his  eternal 
perdition  impossible.  It  is  true,  he  goes  astray  and  is  implicated 
in  crimes.  He  becomes  guilty  of  the  death  of  Valentine  although 
he  slays  him  merely  in  self-defense.  He  is  accessory  to  the  death 
of  Gretchen,  the  mother,  as  well  as  of  her  baby.  Faust  is  not  a 
criminal,  but  his  wretched  behavior  implicates  him  in  guilt;  and 
yet  not  otherwise  than  is  indicated  in  the  stanza  of  the  harper  in 
''Wilhelm  Meister,"  the  venerable  protector  of  Mignon,  who 
sings : 

Who  never  ate  with  tears  his  bread, 

Who  never  through  night's  heavy  hours 

Sat  weeping  on  his  lonely  bed, — 

He  know's  you  not,  ye  heavenly  powers ! 

Through  you  the  paths  of  life  we  gain. 

Ye  let  poor  mortals  go  astray, 
And  then  abandon  them  to  pain, — 

Since  man  the  penalty  must  pay. 

[Wer  nie  sein  Brod  mit  Thranen  ass, 

Wer  nie  die  kummervollen  Nachte 

Auf  seinem  Bette  weinend  sass, 

Der  kennt  euch  nicht,  ihr  himmlischen  Machte ! 

Ihr  fiihrt  in's  Leben  uns  hinein, 
Ihr  lasst  den  Armen  schuldig  werden, 
Dann  iiberlasst  ihr  ihn  der  Pein : 
Denn  alle  Schuld  racht  sicli  auf  Erden.] 

Protestantism  is  a  protest  against  the  narrowness  of  the 
medieval  Church.     It  is  a  negation  of  the  old,  and  Faust  likewise 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST. 


305 


is  a  destructive  spirit.     He  boldly  curses  everything  which  be- 
guiles him  with  false  illusions.     He  exclaims: 

Cursed  be  the  vine's  transcendent  nectar, — 
The  highest  favor  Love  lets  fall ! 
Cursed,  also,  Hope ! — cursed  Faith,  the  spectre ! 
And  cursed  be  Patience  most  of  all ! 

[Fluch  sei  dem  Balsamsaft  der  Trauben ! 
Fluch  jener  hochsten  Liebeshuld ! 
Fluch  sei  der  Hoffnung !  Fluch  dem  Glauben, 
Und  Fluch  vor  Allen  der  Geduld!] 

Faust  destroys  his  old  ideals,  but  he  feels  in  himself  the 
power  to  build  them  up  again,  and  this  is  expressed  by  the  chorus 
of  spirits  who  sing : 


Woe!  Woe! 

Thou  hast  it  destroyed, 

The  beautiful  world, 

With  powerful  fist : 

In  ruin  't  is  hurled, 

By  the  blow  of  a  demi-god  shattered ! 

The  scattered 

Fragments  into  the  Void  we  carry, 

Deploring 

The  beauty  perished  beyond  restoring. 

Mightier 

For  the  children  of  men, 

Brightlier 

Build  it  again, 

In  thine  own  bosom  build  it  anew ! 

Bid  the  new  career 

Commence, 

With  clearer  sense. 

And  the  new  songs  of  cheer 

Be  sung  thereto ! 


[Weh!  Weh! 

Du  hast  sie  zerstort. 

Die  schone  Welt, 

Mit  machtiger  Faust ; 

Sie  stiirzt,  sie  zerfallt ! 

Kin  Halbgott  hat  sie  zerschlagen ! 

Wir  tragen 

Die  Trijmmern  ins  Nichts  hiniiber 

Und  klagen 

Ueber  die  verlorne  Schone. 

Machtiger 

Der  Erdensohne^, 

Prachtiger 

Baue  sie  wieder, 

In  Deinem  Busen  baue  sie  auf ! 

Neuen  Lebenslauf 

Beginne 

Mit  hellem  Sinne, 

Und  neue  Lieder 

Tonen  darauf !] 


Goethe  felt  that  the  bold  progressiveness  of  science  and  the 
insatiate  aspiration  of  the  spirit  of  invention  to  make  the  powers 
of  nature  subservient  to  the  needs  of  man,  could  not  be  sin.  The 
courage  of  a  man  who  truly  says  to  himself,  "Nor  hell  nor  Devil 
can  longer  affright  me,"  is  evidence  of  his  strength,  his  manli- 
ness, his  independence,  and  even  the  good  Lord  must  cherish 
respect  for  him.     Therefore  in  spite  of  all  the  errors  into  which 


1 


306 


GOETHE. 


he  might  fall,  Faust  can  not  be  lost.    To  err  is  human.     Says  the 
good  Lord  in  the  Prologue: 

While  man's  desires  and  aspirations  stir, 
He  cannot  choose  but  err. 

[Es  irrt  der  Mensch,  so  lang  er  strebt.] 


SATAN  ACCUSING  JOB. 
Fresco  by  Volterra  in  tlie  Canipo  Santo  at  Pisa. 


But  error  is  the  inheritance  of  the  human  race.  Adds  the 
Lord : 

A  good  man  through   obscurest  aspiration 
Has  still  an  instinct  of  the  one  true  way. 

[Ein  guter  Mensch,  in  seinem  dunkeln  Drange, 
1st  sich  des  rechten  Weges  wohl  bewusst.] 

In  this  sense  Goethe  completed  his  "Faust"  and  justified  the 
final  salvation  of  Faust's  soul  in  the  Prologue,  the  main  passage 
of  which  also  deserves  to  be  quoted  in  full. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST. 


307 


The  scene  opens  with  a  doxology  of  the  archangels  who 
praise  creation,  the  sun,  the  earth,  the  magnificence  of  nature 
and  especially  the  still  small  voice  which  most  of  all  reveals  the 
glory  of  God.  As  Satan  appeared  before  God  to  accuse  Job,  so 
Mephistopheles  comes  to  the  .  celestial  assemblage.  The  scene 
reads  as  follows : 


MEPHISTOPHELES  BEFORE  THE  LORd! 
By  Franz  Simm. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Since  Thou,  O  Lord,  deign'st  to  approach  again 

And  ask  us  how  we  do,  in  manner  kindest, 

And  heretofore  to  meet  myself  wert  fain, 

Among  Th}-  menials,  now,  my  face  Thou  findest. 

Pardon,  this  troop  I  cannot  follow  after 

With  lofty  speech,  though  by  them  scorned  and  spurned 

My  pathos  certainly  would  move  Thy  laughter, 


308  GOETHE. 

If  Thou  hadst  not  all  merriment  unlearned. 

Of  suns  and  worlds  I've  nothing  to  be  quoted; 

How  men  torment  themselves,  is  all  I've  noted. 

The  little  god  o'  the  world  sticks  to  the  same  old  way, 

And  is  as  whimsical  as  on  Creation's  day. 

Life  somewhat  better  might  content  him, 

But  for  the  gleam  of  heavenly  light  which  Thou  hast  lent  him 

He  calls  it  Reason — thence  his  power's  increased. 

To  be  far  beastlier  than  any  beast. 

Saving  Thy  Gracious  Presence,  he  to  me 

A  long-legged  grasshopper  appears  to  be. 

That  springing  flies,  and  flying  springs. 

And  in  the  grass  the  same  old  ditty  sings. 

Would  he  still  lay  among  the  grass  he  grows  in ! 

Each  bit  of  dung  he  seeks,  to  stick  his  nose  in. 

THE    LORD. 

Hast  thou,  then,  nothing  more  to  mention? 
Coni'st  ever,  thus,  with  ill  intention? 
Find'st  nothing  right  on  earth,  eternally? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

No,  Lord!  I  find  things,  there,  still  bad  as  they  can  be. 

Man's  misery  even  to  pity  moves  my  nature : 

I've  scarce  the  heart  to  plague  the  wretched  creature. 


Know'st  Faust? 


THE    LORD. 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

The  Doctor  Faust? 

THE    LORD, 


My  servant,  he ! 


MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Forsooth !     He  serves  you  after  strange  devices  : 
No  earthly  meat  or  drink  the  fool  suffices : 
His  spirit's  ferment  far  aspireth ; 
Half  conscious  of  his  frenzied,  crazed  unrest. 
The  fairest  stars  from  Heaven  he  requireth, 
From  Earth  the  highest  raptures  and  the  best, 
And  all  the  Near  and  Far  that  he  desireth 
Fails  to  subdue  the  tumult  of  his  breast. 

THE   LORD, 

Though  still  confused  his  service  rnito  Me, 
I  soon  shall  lead  him  ta  a  clearer  morning. 
Sees  not  tbe  gardener,  even  while  buds  his  tree, 
Both  flower  and  fruit  the  future  years  adorning? 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST.  309 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

What  will  you  bet?     There's  still  a  chance  to  gain  him, 
If  unto  me  full  leave  you  give, 
Gently  upon  my  road  to  train  him ! 

THE    LORD. 

As  long  as  he  on  earth  shall  live. 

So  long  I  make  no  prohibition. 

While  Man's  desires  and  aspirations  stir, 

He  cannot  choose  but  err. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

My  thanks !"    I  find  the  dead  no  acquisition, 

And  never  cared  to  have  them  in  my  keeping. 

I  much  prefer  the  cheeks  where  ruddy  blood  is  leaping. 

And  when  a  corpse  approaches,  close  my  house : 

In  life  is  sport.    Thus  treats  the  cat  the  mouse. 

THE   LORD. 

Enough !     What  thou  hast  asked  is  granted. 

Turn  off  this  spirit  from  his  fountain-head ; 

To  trap  him,  let  thy  snares  be  planted, 

Let  him,  with  thee,  be  downward  led; 

Then  stand  abashed,  when  thou  art  forced  to  say : 

A  good  man,  through  obscurest  aspiration. 

Has  still  an  instinct  of  the  one  true  way. 

[  MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Da  Du,  o  Herr,  Dich  einmal  wieder  nahst 

Und  fragst,  wie  Alles  sich  bei  uns  befinde, 

Und  Du  mich  sonst  gewohnlich  gerne  sahst, 

So  siehst  Du  mich  audi  under  dem  Gesinde. 

Verzeih,  ich  kann  nicht  hohe  Worte  machen, 

Und  wenn  mich  auch  der  ganze  Kreis  verhohnt ; 

Mein  Pathos  brachte  Dich  gewiss  zum  Lachen, 

Hattst  Du  Dir  nicht  das  Lachen  abgewohnt. 

Von  Sonn'  und  Welten  weiss  ich  nichts  zu  sagen, 

Ich  sehe  nur,  wie  sich  die  ^lenschen  plagen. 

Der  kleine  Gott  der  Welt  bleibt  stets  von  gleichem  Schlag 

Und  ist  so  wunderlich  als  wie  am  ersten  Tag. 

Ein  wenig  besser  wiird'  er  leben, 

Hattst  Du  ihm  nicht  den  Schein  des  Himmelslichts  gegeben; 

Er  nennt's  Vernunft  und  braucht's  allein, 

Nur  thierischer  als  jedes  Thier  zu  sein. 

Er  scheint  mir,  mit  Verlaub  von  Euer  Gnaden, 

Wie  eine  der  langbeinigen  Zikaden, 

Die  immer  fliegt  und  fliegend  springt 

'  Mephistopheles  expresses  his  thanks  for  permission  to  test  Faust  while 
he  still  lives. 


310  GOETHE. 

Und  gleich  im  Gras  ihr  altes  Liedchen  singt. 
Und  lag'  er  nur  noch  immer  in  dem  Grase! 
In  jeden  Quark  begrabt  er  seine  Nase. 

DER     HERR. 

Hast  Du  mir  weiter  nichts  zu  sagen? 
Kommst  Du  nur  immer  anzuklagen? 
1st  auf  der  Erde  ewig  Dir  nichts  recht? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Nein,  Herr,  ich  find'  es  dort,  wie  immer,  herzlich  schlecht. 
Die  Menschen  dauern  mich  in  ihren  Jammertagen ; 
Icli  mag  sogar  die  armen  selbst  nicht  plagen. 

DER    HERR. 

Kennst  Du  den  Faust? 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Den  Doktor? 

DER     HERR. 

Meinen  Knecht ! 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Fiirwahr,  er  dient  Euch  auf  besondre  Weise. 
Nicht  irdisch  ist  des  Thoren  Trank  noch  Speise ; 
Ihn  treibt  die  Gahrung  in  die  Feme, 
Er  ist  sich  seiner  Tollheit  halb  bewusst : 
Vom  Himmel  fordert  er  die  schonsten  Sterne 
Und  von  der  Erde  jede  hochste  Lust, 
Und  alle  Nah'  und  alle  Feme 
Befriedigt  nicht  die  tiefbewegte  Brust. 

DER    HERR. 

Wenn  er  mir  jetzt  auch  nur  verworren  dient, 
So  ward'  ich  ihn  bald  in  die  Klarheit  fiihren. 
Weiss  docli  der  Gartner,  wenn  das  Baumchen  griint, 
Dass  Bliith'  und  Frucht  die  kiinft'gen  Jahre  zieren. 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Was  wettet  Ihr?  Den  sollt  Ihr  noch  verlieren, 
Wenn  Ihr  mir  die  Erlaubniss  gebt, 
Ihn  meine  Strasse  sacht  zu  fiihren. 

DER     HERR. 

So  lang'  er  auf  der  Erde  lebt. 

So  lange  sei  Dir's  nicht  verboten. 

Es  irrt  der  Mensch,  so  lang'  er  strebt. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  311 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

Da  dank'  ich  Euch ;  denn  mit  den  Todten 

Hab'  ich  mich  niemals  gern  befangen. 

Am  Meisten  lieb'  ich  mir  die  vollen,  frischen  Wangen, 

Fiir  einen  Leichnam  bin  ich  nicht  zu  Haus ; 

Mir  geht  es  wie  der  Katze  mit  der  Maus. 

DER     HERR. 

Nun  gut,  es  sei  Dir  iiberlassen! 

Zieh  diesen  Geist  von  seinem  Urquell  ab 

Und  fiihr  ihn,  kannst  Du  ihn  erfassen, 

Auf  Deinem  Wege  mit  herab 

Und  steh  beschamt,  wenn  Du  bekennen  musst ; 

Ein  guter  Mensch,  in  seinem  dunkeln  Drange, 

1st  sich  des  rechten  Weges  wohl  bewusst.] 

But  Mephistoplieles  has  underrated  the  difficulty  of  his  task, 
Faust  conckides  his  pact  without  fear,  because  he  is  fully  con- 
scious of  the  Devil's  inability  to  fulfil  his  promise.  As  has  been 
cjuoted  above,  Faust  says  : 

Canst  thou,  poor  Devil,  give  me  whatsoever? 
When  was  a  human  soul  in  its  sublime  endeavor, 
E'er  understood  by  such  as  thou? 

[Was  willst  Du  armer  Teufel  geben? 

Ward  eines  Menschen  Geist  in  seinem  hohen  Streben 

Von  Deinesgleichen  je  gefasst?] 

Faust  promises  to  surrender  himself  body  and  soul  when  he 
would  ever  be  satisfied  with  mere  enjoyment,  with  empty  pleas- 
ures, with  vanity,  with  lazy  indolence.  We  here  repeat  the  pas- 
sage for  it  is  important.     Faust  says : 

When  on  an  idler's  bed  I  stretch  myself  in  quiet. 

There  let,  at  once,  my  record  end ! 

Canst  thou  with  lying  flattery  rule  me, 

Until,  self-pleased,  myself  I  see, — 

Canst  thou  with  rich  enjoyment  fool  me. 

Let  that  day  be  the  last  for  me ! 

This  bet  I  offer. 

[Ward'  ich  beruhigt  je  mich  auf  ein  Faulbett  legen, 
So  sei  es  gleich  um  mich  gethan ! 
Kannst  Du  mich  schmeichelnd  je  bcliigen, 
Dass  ich  mir  selbst  gefallen  mag. 


312  GOETHE. 

Kannst  Dn  mich  mit  Genuss  betrijgen : 
Das  sei  fiir  mich  der  letzte  Tag ! 
Die  Wette  biet'  ich!] 

Mephistopheles  imagines  that  Faust  will  finally  succumb  to 
man's  inborn  vanity,  egotism,  and  hankering  after  pleasure. 
When  Faust  in  his  temporary  despair  of  the  efficacy  of  science 
as  well  as  of  finding  satisfaction  in  great  deeds,  has  concluded 
his  pact,  Mephistopheles  feels  sure  of  a  final  triumph.  He  ex- 
presses his  wrong  estimation  of  Faust  in  these  words : 

Reason  and  Knowledge  thou  despise, 

The  highest  strength  in  man  that  lies ! 

Let  but  the  Lying  Spirit  bind  thee 

With  magic  works  and  shows  that  blind  thee 

And  I  shall  have  thee  fast  and  sure ! — 

Fate  such  a  bold,  untrammeled  spirit  gave  him, 

As  forwards,  onwards,  ever  must  endure; 

Whose  overhasty  impulse  drove  him 

Past  earthly  joys  he  might  secure. 

Dragged  through  the  wildest  life,  will  I  enslave  him. 

Through  flat  and  stale  indifference; 

With  struggling,  chilling,  checking,  so  deprave  him 

That,  to  his  hot,  insatiate  sense. 

The  dream  of  drink  shall  mock,  but  never  lave  him ; 

Refreshment  shall  his  lips  in  vain  implore — 

Had  he  not  made  himself  the  Devil's,  naught  could  save  him. 

Still  were  he  lost  forevermore ! 

[Verachte  nur  Vernunft  und  Wissenschaft, 

Des  Menschen  allerhochste  Kraft, 

Lass  nur  in  Blend-  und  Zauberwerken 

Dich  von  dem  Liigengcist  bestarken, 

So  hab'  ich  Dich  schon  unbedingt— 

Ihm  hat  das  Schicksal  einen  Geist  gegeben, 

Der  ungebandigt  immer  vorwarts  dringt, 

Und  dessen  iibereiltes  Streben 

Der  Erde  Freuden  iiberspringt. 

Den  schlepp'  ich  durch  das  wilde  Leben, 

Durch  flache  LInbedeutenheit. 

Er  soil  mir  zappeln,  starren,  kleben, 

Und  seiner  Unersattlichkeit 

Soil  Speis'  und  Trank  vor  gier'gen  Lippen  schweben; 

Er  wird  Erquickung  sich  umsonst  erflehn, 

Und  hatt'  er  sich  auch  nicht  dem  Teufel  iibergeben, 

Er  miisste  doch  zu  Grunde  gehn  !] 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF    FAUST. 


313 


Faust,  however,  is  proof  against  the  alhirements  which  the 
Devil  offers.  It  is  characteristic  of  him  that  in  Auerbach's  cellar 
among  the  drunken  students  he  takes  no  part  whatever  in  their 
jokes  or  the  buffooneries  of  Mephistopheles.  Apparently  he  is 
bored,  for  the  only  utterance  he  makes  in  this  scene,  besides  a 
word  of  greeting  when  he  enters,  is  the  sentence  addressed  to 
Mephistopheles, 

I  now  desire  to  leave  this  place. 
[Ich  hatte  Lust,  nun  abzufahren.] 


ON  THE  WINE  CASK. 
By  Franz  Simm. 

]\Iephistopheles  had  expected  to  amuse  Faust.     He  says 

Before  all  else,  I  bring  thee  hither 
Where  boon  companions  meet  together, 
To  let  thee  see  how  smooth  life  runs  away, 
Here,  for  the  folk,  each  day's  a  holiday : 
With  little  wit,  and  ease  to  suit  them. 
They  whirl  in  narrow,  circling  trails. 
Like  kittens  playing  with  their  tails ; 
And  if  no  headache  persecute  them. 
So  long  the  host  may  credit  give, 
They  merrily  and  careless  live. 

[Ich  muss  Dich  nun  vor  alien  Dingen 

In  lustige  Gesellschaft  bringen, 

Damit  Du  siehst  wie  leicht  sich's  leben  lasst. 


314 


GOETHE. 


VJVE.HIBE.OBOILSiGARE  .     MEMOR  TAVSJ"!    HTIV^  .ETH  V  f  Vfi  ,^ 
:POIflV-«  lAHERAT  CrATDOHiV.C  AHTBRAT  ATVCPtA.OWAllV  1525. 

FAyST  IN  AUERBACH'S  CELLAR. 


-^ 


Fresco. 


THE  RIOTOUS  STUDENTS  AND  FAUST'S  ESCAPE. 
After  P.  Cornelius. 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  315 

Dem  Volke  hier  wird  jeder  Tag  ein  Fest. 
Mit  wenig  Witz  und  viel  Behagen 
Dreht  Jeder  sich  im  engen  Zirkeltanz, 
Wie  junge  Katzen  mit  dem  Schwanz. 
Wenn  sie  nicht  iiber  Kopfweh  klagen, 
So  lang'  del*  Wirth  nur  weiter  borgt, 
Sind  sie  vcrgniigt  und  unbcsorgt.] 

But  Mephistopheles  has  misjudged  Faust's  taste.  When  the 
students  become  aggressive  in  their  intoxication,  Mephistopheles 
bewilders  them  by  hallucinations  and  leaves  the  wineshop  with 
his  companion.  The  drunkards  recover  from  their  confusion 
and  one  of  them  swears : 

I  saw  him  with  these  eyes  upon  a  wine  cask  riding 
Out  of  the  cellar  door  just  now. 

[Ich  hab'  ihn  selbst  hinaus  zur  Kellerthure 
Auf  einem  Fasse  reiten  sehn.] 

Mephistopheles  continues  to  misjudge  the  wants  of  Faust. 
In  the  second  part  he  addresses  him  with  the  question : 

So  thou  wilt  glory  earn? 

[Und  also  willst  du  Ruhm  verdienen?] 

but  Faust  answers : 

The  Deed  is  everything,  the  glory  naught. 
[Die  That  ist  alles,  nichts  der  Ruhm.] 

And  what  Faust  thinks  of  pleasure  appears  from  his  estimate 
of  the  young  emperor  who  thinks  only  of  enjoyment  when  he 
should  attend  to  the  duties  of  government. 

Says  Mephistopheles : 

Thou  knowest  him.     The  while  we  twain,  beside  him, 
With  wealth  illusive  bounteously  supplied  him, 
Then  all  the  world  was  to  be  had  for  pay ; 
For  as  a  youth  he  held  imperial  sway, 
And  he  was  pleased  to  try  it,  whether, 
Both  interests  would  not  smoothly  pair. 
Since  't  were  desirable  and  fair 
To  govern  end  enjoy,  together. 


316  GOETHE. 

[Du  kennst  ihn  ja.     Als  wir  ihn  unterhielten, 

Ihm  falschen  Reichthum  in  die  Hande  spielten, 

Da  war  die  ganze  Welt  ihm  fail. 

Denn  jung  ward  ihm  der  Thron  zii  Theil, 

Und  ihm  beliebt'  es,  falsch  zu  schliessen, 

Es  konne  wol  znsammen  gehn 

Und  sei  recht  wiinschenswerth  und  schon, 

Regieren  und  zugleich  geniessen.] 

Faust  answers : 

A  mighty  error!     He  who  would  command 
Must  in  commanding  find  his  highest  blessing : 
Then,  let  his  breast  with  force  of  will  expand, 
But  what  he  wills,  be  past  another's  guessing! 
What  to  his  faithful  he  hath  whispered,  that 
Is  turned  to  act,  and  men  amaze  thereat : 
Thus  will  he  ever  be  the  highest-placed 
And  worthiest! — Enjoyment  makes  debased. 

fEin  grosser  Irrthum  !     Wer  befehlen  soil, 

Muss  im  Befehlen  Seligkeit  empfinden  ; 

Ihm  ist  die  Brust  von  hohem  Willen  voll, 

Doch  was  er  will,  es  darfs  kein  Mensch  ergriinden. 

Was  er  den  Treusten  in  das  Ohr  geraunt, 

Es  ist  gethan,  und  alle  Welt  erstaunt. 

So  wird  er  stets  der  Allerhochste  sein, 

Der  Wiirdigste; — Geniessen  macht  gemein.] 

There  is  a  radical  difference  between  Faust's  conception  of 
the  world  and  that  of  Mephistopheles.  To  Faust  ideas,  ideals, 
thoughts,  aspirations  and  the  endeavor  to  accomplish  something, 
are  all-important  and  the  material  realities  are  merely  means  to 
an  end.  Mephistopheles  regards  only  the  concrete  material 
things  as  realities  and  has  a  contempt  for  Faust's  spiritual  treas- 
ures as  if  they  were  mere  phantoms  and  bubbles  of  a  feverish 
imagination.  Thus  when  Faust  searches  for  Helen,  the  Greek 
ideal  of  beauty,  Mephistopheles  hands  him  a  key  and  instructs 
him  how  with  its  help  he  can  find  his  way  to  the  realm  of  the 
mysterious  mothers — the  prototypes  of  all  existent  forms. 

Mephistopheles  sends  Faust  into  the  void.  The  place  of 
eternal  ideas  is  to  him  nothing.  It  has  no  bodily  reality,  it  is 
nothing  tangible,  not  concrete  material.     It  is  a  region  for  which 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE   OF   FAUST. 


317 


Mephistopheles  expresses  a  very  strong  dislike.     But  Faust  feels 
at  home  and  at  once  understands  the  situation.     He  says : 

In  this  thy  Naught  I  hope  to  find  the  All. 

[In  deinem  Nichts  hoff'  ich  das  All  zu  fmden.] 

What  is  real  to  Mephistopheles  is  merely  a  transient  symbol 
to  Faust,  and  what  is  Faust's  All,  is  Naught  to  Mephistopheles, 
an  empty  void,  something  non-existent. 

Here  in  a  mystical  allegory  Goethe  symbolizes  the  existence 
of  an  ideal  realm  which  to  the  materialist  is  a  mere  phantom, 
but  the  poet  does  not  fail  to  criticize  also  the  fantastic  aberra- 


THE  KEY. 

tions  of  science  which  are  commonly  pursued  with  noisy  preten- 
sions by  immature  naturalists  and  pseudo-scientists.  Faust  does 
not  attempt  the  artificial  procreation  of  a  human  organism.  It 
is  Wagner,  his  former  famulus  and  now  his  successor  at  the 
university,  who  is  bent  on  producing  an  homunculus.  Mephis- 
topheles surprises  him  in  his  laboratory  and  Wagner  with  hushed 
voice  urges  him  not  to  disturb  the  work. 

In  contrast  to  the  extravagances  of  natural  science,  Goethe 
pillories  the  faults  of  the  philosophy  of  his  age  in  the  bacca- 
laureus,  a  young  scholar  who  in  the  exuberance  of  his  youth 
thinks  that  in  himself  is  reached  the  climax  of  the  world's  evo- 


318 


GOETHE. 


lution ;  that  with  his  appearance  on  earth  day  dawned  and  before 
him  there  was  chaos  and  night.     He  says  to  Mephistopheles : 

This  is  Youth's  noblest  caUing  and  most  fit ! 
The  world  was  not,  ere  I  created  it; 
The  sun  I  drew  from  out  tlie  orient  sea ; 
The  moon  began,  her  changeful  course  with  me; 


- 

rT  • 

WAGNER   PREPARING  HIS   HOMUNCULUS. 
By  Franz  Simm. 

The  Day  put  on  his  shining  robes,  to  greet  me; 

The  Earth  grew  green,  and  burst  in  flower  to  meet  me, 

And  when  I  beckoned,  from  the  primal  night 

The  stars  unveiled  their  splendors  to  my  sight. 

Who,  save  myself,  to  you  deliverance  brought 

From  commonplaces  of  restricted  thought? 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST. 


319 


I,  proud  and  free,  even  as  dictates  my  mind, 
Follow  with  joy  the  inward  light  I  find, 
And  speed  along,  in  mine  own  ecstasy. 
Darkness  behind,  and  Glory  leading  me ! 

[Dies  ist  der  Jugend  edelster  Beruf! 

Die  Welt,  sie  war  nicht,  eh  ich  sie  erschuf ; 

Die  Sonne  fiihrt'  ich  aus  dem  Meer  herauf ; 

Mit  mir  begann  der  Mond  des  Wechsels  Lauf ; 

Da  schmiickte  sich  der  Tag  auf  meinen  Wegen, 

Die  Erde  griinte.  bliihte  mir  entgegen. 

Auf  meinen  Wink  in  jener  ersten  Nacht 


SELF-SATISFIED. 

The  Baccalaureus  explains  his  philosophy  to  Mephistopheles. 
By  Franz  Simm. 

Entfaltete  sich  aller  Sterne  Pracht. 

Wer,  ausser  mir,  entband  Euch  aller  Schranken 

Philisterhaft  einklemmender  Gedanken? 

Ich  aber  frei,  wie  mir's  ini  Geiste  spricht, 

Verfolge  froh  mein  innerliches  Licht 

Und  wandle  rasch,  im  eigensten  Entziicken, 

Das  Helle  vor  mir,  Finsterniss  im  Riicken.] 

Mephistopheles  is  dumbfounded  at  the  conceit  of  this  im- 
mature youth ;  but  the  Devil  has  seen  other  generations  which 
had  behaved  no  better,  and  savs  to  himself : 


Yet  even  from  him  we're  not  in  special  peril ; 
He  will,  ere  long,  to  other  thoughts  incline : 
The  must  may  foam  absurdly  in  the  barrel, 
Nathless  it  turns  at  last  to  wine. 


320  GOETHE. 


[Doch  sind  wir  audi  mit  diesem  nicht  gefahrdet, 
In  wenig  Jahren  wird  es  anders  sein : 
Wenn  sich  der  Most  auch  ganz  absurd  gebardet, 
Es  giebt  zuletzt  doch  noch  'n  Wein.] 


Faust  is  absolutely  fearless  and  beyond  the  temptations  of 
vanity  and  self-indulgence;  he  lives  in  his  ideals  only  and  finds 
delight  in  work.  His  highest  ambition  is  to  create  new  oppor- 
tunities for  his  fellow  men.  He  recovers  a  kingdom  from  the 
sea,  not  to  rule  there  as  a  sovereign,  but  to  be  a  leader  who  would 
teach  a  free  people  to  work  out  their  own  salvation,  and  a  man 
of  this  stamp  cannot  be  lost.  As  the  Dutch  have  wrested  great 
districts  of  new  land  from  the  ocean  by  damming  the  floods  with 
dykes,  so  Faust  succeeds  in  retrieving  a  large  tract  of  swamps 
by  drainage.  This  is  true  happiness  which  he  procures  for  him- 
self and  others,  yet  even  this  happiness  is  not  indulgence;  it  is  a 
constant  struggle  and  must  be  bought  by  unceasing  exertion. 
Faust  himself  grows  old,  and  the  constant  worry  for  the  success 
of  his  plans  deprives  him  of  his  sight.  Care,  in  the  shape  of  a 
haggard  witch,  appears  in  his  home;  she  breathes  upon  his  eyes 
and  an  eternal  night  sinks  upon  him.  Still  more  urgently  does 
he  follow  his  spiritual  vision  and  push  the  work  forward  so  that 
it  may  be  completed.  But  while  he  imagines  that  the  laborers 
are  throwing  up  dykes  and  laying  the  drains,  the  Lemures,  the 
ugly  spirits  of  decay,  are  digging  his  grave.  Faust  feels  elated 
at  the  thought  of  his  plan's  completion.     He  says : 


To  many  millions  let  me  furnish  soil, 

Though  not  secure,  yet  free  to  active  toil ; 

Green,  fertile  fields,  where  men  and  herds  go  forth 

At  once,  with  comfort,  on  the  newest  Earth, 

And  swiftly  settled  on  the  hill's  firm  base, 

Created  by  the  bold,  industrious  race. 

A  land  like  Paradise  here,  round  about : 

Up  to  the  brink  the  tide  may  roar  without, 

And  though  it  gnaw,  to  burst  with  force  the  limit, 

By  common  impulse  all  unite  to  hem  it. 

Yes  !  to  this  thought  I  hold  with  firm  persistence ; 

The  last  result  of  wisdom  stamps  it  true : 

He  only  earns  his  freedom  and  existence. 

Who  daily  conquers  them  anew. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  321 

Thus  here,  by  dangers  girt,  shall  glide  away 

Of  childhood,  manhood,  age,  the  vigorous  day : 

And  such  a  throng  I  fain  would  see, — 

Stand  on  free  soil  among  a  people  free ! 

Then  dared  I  hail  the  Moment  fleeing: 

"Ah,  still  delay — thou  art  so  fair!" 

The  traces  cannot,  of  mine  earthly  being, 

In  aeons  perish, — they  are  there  ! — 

In  proud  fore-feeling  of  such  lofty  bliss, 

I  now  enjoy  the  highest  Moment, — this! 

[Eroffn'  ich  Raume  vielen  Millionen, 

Nicht  sicher  zwar,  doch  thatig  frei  zu  wohnen : 

Griin  das  Gefilde,  fruchtbar;  Mensch  und  Heerde 

Sogleich  behaglich  auf  der  neusten  Erde, 

Gleich  angesiedelt  an  des  Hiigels  Kraft, 

Den  aufgewalzt  kiihn-ems'ge  Volkerschaft. 

Im  Innern  hier  ein  paradiesisch  Land, 

Da  rase  draussen  Fluth  bis  auf  zum  Rand, 

Und  wie  sie  nascht,  gewaltsam  einzuschliessen, 

Gemeindrang  eilt,  die  Litcke  zu  verschliessen. 

Ja !  Diesem  Sinne  bin  ich  ganz  ergeben; 

Das  ist  Der  Weisheit  letzter  Schluss : 

Nur  der  verdient  sich  Freiheit  wie  das  Leben, 

Der  taglich  sie  erobern  muss. 

Und  so  verbringt,  umrungen  von  Gefahr, 

Hier  Kindheit,  Mann  und  Greis  sein  tiichtig  Jahr. 

Soldi  ein  Gewimmel  mocht'  ich  sehn, 

Auf  freiem  Grund  mit  freiem  Volke  stehn. 

Zum  Augenblicke  diirft'  ich  sagen : 

Verweile  doch  !     Du  bist  so  schon  ! 

Es  kann  die  Spur  von  meinen  Erdentagen 

Nicht  in  Aeonen  untergehn ! — 

Im  Vorgefiihl  von  solchem  hohen  Gluck 

Geniess'  ich  jetzt  den  hochsten  Augenblick.] 


Now  for  the  first  time  Faust  feels  true  enjoyment  and  would 
hold  on  to  that  moment  of  satisfaction.  But  this  is  not  a  joy 
which  the  Devil  can  give;  it  is  the  purest  joy  of  ideal  aspiration 
and  indeed  to  Mephistopheles  it  appears  poor  and  empty.  This 
joy  is  not  of  the  earth;  it  is  no  indulgence  in  what  Mephistopheles 
calls  the  realities  of  life;  it  is  purely  ideal,  not  material,  and 
ideals  to  the  worldly  minded  are  mere  phantoms,  ''shifting 
shapes." 

Mephistopheles  adds  this  comment: 


322  GOETHE. 

No  joy  could  sate  him,  and  suffice  no  bliss ! 
To  catch  but  shifting  shapes  was  his  endeavor : 
The  latest,  poorest,  emptiest  Moment — this — 
He  wished  to  hold  it  fast  forever. 

[Ihn  sattigt  keine  Lust,  ihm  gniigt  kein  Gliick, 
So  buhlt  er  fort  nach  wechselnden  Gestalten ; 
Den  letzten,  schlechten,  leeren  Augenblick, 
Der  Arme  wunscht  ihn  festzuhalten.] 

Now  follows  the  scene  in  which  Mephistopheles  loses  his 
prize,  and  here  it  seems  to  me  Goethe  has  failed  to  bring  out  the 
meaning  of  Faust's  salvation.  Instead  of  rescuing  Faust  by  the 
intrinsic  worth  of  his  character  and  the  nobility  of  his  endeavor, 
Goethe  makes  Mephistopheles  lose  his  forfeit  by  mere  negligence 
on  account  of  a  sudden  sentiment  of  lust  that  is  aroused  in  him 
by  the  sight  of  angels. 

The  Lemures  are  at  work  digging  the  grave  and  Mephistoph- 
eles calls  all  the  devils  of  hell  to  his  aid.  He  exclaims  with  some 
frantic  whirling  gestures  of  conjuration: 

Come  on !     Strike  up  the  double  quick,  anew, 

With  straight  or  crooked  horns,  ye  gentlemen  infernal, 

Of  the  old  Devil-grit  and  kernel, 

And  bring  at  once  the  Jaws  of  Hell  with  you ! 

[Nur  frisch  heran  !  Verdoppelt  Euren  Schritt, 
Ihr  Herrn  vom  graden,  Herrn  vom  krummen  Home, 
Vom  alten  Teufelsschrot  und  -Korne, 
Bringt  Ihr  zugleich  den  Hollenrachen  mit.] 

At  the  same  time  angels  appear  scattering  roses  and  before 
them  the  devils  retire.  Mephistopheles  only  remains,  but  the 
sight  of  the  angelic  figures  turns  his  head  and  he  falls  in  love 
with  them.     He  says  : 

The  sight  of  them  once  made  my  hatred  worse. 
Hath  then  an  alien  force  transpierced  my  nature? 
What  now  restrains  me,  that  I  dare  not  curse? — 
And  if  I  take  their  cozening  bait  so, 
Who  else,  henceforth,  the  veriest  fool  will  be? 
The  stunning  fellows,  whom  I  hate  so. 
How  very  charming  they  appear  to  me ! — 
Tell  me,  sweet  children,  ere  I  miss  you. 
Are  ye  not  of  the  race  of  Lucifer ! 


THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  323 

You  are  so  fair,  forsooth,  I'd  like  to  kiss  you  ; 

It  seems  to  me  as  if  ye  welcome  were. 

I  feel  as  comfortable  and  as  trustful, 

As  though  a  thousand  times  ere  this  we'd  met ! 

So  surreptitiously  catlike — lustful : 

With  every  glance  ye're  fairer,  fairer  yet. 

O.  nearer  come, — O,  grant  me  one  sweet  look ! 

ANGELS. 

We  come!   Why  shrink?    Canst  not  our  presence  brook? 
Now  we  approach :  so,  if  thou  canst,  remain ! 
{The  Angels,  coming  forzvard,  occupy  the  zvhole  space.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES. 

(zvho  is  croivded  into  the  proscenium) . 
Us.  Spirits  damned,  you  brand  with  censure. 
Yet  you  are  wizards  b}^  indenture ; 
For  man  and  woman,  luring,  you  enchain. 

[Der  Anblick  war  mir  sonst  so  feindlich  scharf. 

Hat  mich  ein  Fremdes  durch  und  durchgedrungen? 

Ich  mag  sie  gerne  sehn,  die  allerliebsten  Jungen ; 

Was  halt  mich  ab,  dass  ich  nicht  fluchen  darf? — 

Und  wenn  icli  mich  bethoren  lasse. 

Wer  heisst  denn  kiinftighin  der  Thor? — 

Die  Wetterbuben,  die  ich  basse, 

Sie  kommen  mir  doch  gar  zu  lieblich  vor ! — 

Ihr  schonen  Kinder,  lasst  mich  wissen, 

Seid  ihr  nicht  auch  von  Lucifer's  Geschlecht? 

Ihr  seid  so  hiibsch,  fiirwahr  ich  mocht  Euch  kiissen, 

Mir  ist's,  als  kommt  Ihr  eben  recht. 

Es  ist  mir  so  behaglich,  so  natiirlich. 

Als  hatt'  ich  Euch  schon  tausendmal  gesehn ; 

So  heimlich-katzchenhaft  begierlich ; 

Mit  jedem  Blick  auf's  Neue  schoner,  schon. 

O  nahert  Euch,  o  gonnt  mir  einen  Blick ! 

ENGEL. 

Wir  kommen  schon.  warum  weichst  Du  zuriick? 
Wir  nahern  uns,  und  wenn  Du  kannst,  so  bleib! 
{Die  Engel  nehmen,  iimherziehend,  den  ganzcn  Raum  ein.) 

MEPHISTOPHELES 

(der  ins  Proscenium  gedrdngt  zvird.) 
Ihr  scheltet  uns  verdammte  Geister 
Und  seid  die  wahren  Hexenmeister ; 
Denn  Ihr  verfuhret  Mann  und  Weib, — ] 

Thus  Mephistopheles  is  defrauded  and  he  has  only  himself 


324  GOETHE. 

to  blame.    It  is  no  merit  of  Faust's  that  saves  Faust's  soul.    The 
scene  concludes  thus : 

(The  angels  rise,  bearing  azvay  the  Immortaf  of  Faust.) 
MEPHiSTOPKELES  {looking  around  him). 
But  why  they  suddenly  away  are  hieing? 
These  pretty  children  take  me  by  surprise ! 
They  with  their  booty  heavenwards  are  flying; 
Thence  from  this  grave  they  take  with  them  their  prize. 
My  rare,  great  treasure  they  have  peculated: 
The  lofty  soul,  to  me  hypothecated, 
They  Ve  rapt  away  from  me  in  cunning  wise. 
But  unto  whom  shall  I  appeal  for  justice? 
Who  would  secure  to  me  my  well-earned  right? 
Tricked  so  in  one's  old  days,  a  great  disgust  is ; 
And  I  deserve  it,  this  infernal  spite. 
I've  managed  in  a  most  disgraceful  fashion ; 
A  great  investment  has  been  thrown  away : 
By  lowest  lust  seduced,  and  senseless  passion, 
The  old,  case-hardened  Devil  went  astray. 
And  if,  from  all  this  childish-silly  stuff 
His  shrewd  experience  could  not  wrest  him, 
So  is,  forsooth,  the  folly  quite  enough. 
Which,  in  conclusion,  hath  possessed  him. 

[(Die  Engel  crhehcn  sich,  Faustcns  Unstcrbliches  ciitfiihrrnd.) 

MEPHISTOPKELES    (slch   umsckcnd) . 

Doch  wie? — Wo  sind  sie  hingezogen? 

Unmiind'ges  Volk,  Du  hast  mich  iiberrascht, 

Sind  mit  der  Beute  himmelwarts  entflogen ; 

Drum  haben  sie  an  dieser  Gruft  genascht ! 

Mir  ist  ein  grosser,  einz'ger  Schatz  entwendet, 

Die  hohe  Seele,  die  sich  mir  verpfandet, 

Die  haben  sie  mir  pfiffig  weggepascht. 

Bei  wem  soil  ich  mich  nun  beklagen? 

Wer  schafft  mir  mein  erworbnes  Recht? 

Du  bist  getauscht  in  Deinen  alten  Tagen, 

Du  bast's  verdient,  es  geht  Dir  grimmig  schlecht. 

Ich  habe  schimpflich  missgehandelt, 

Ein  grosser  Aufwand,  schmahlich,  ist  verthan ; 

Gemein  Geliist,  absurde  Liebschaft  wandelt 

Den  ausgepichten  Teufel  an. 

Und  hat  mit  diesem  kindisch-tollen  Ding 

Der  Klugerfahrne  sich  beschaftigt. 

So  ist  fiirwahr  die  Thorheit  nicht  gering, 

Die  seiner  sich  am  Schluss  bemachtigt.] 

^  The  original  manuscript  reads  here  "Faust's  entelechy,"  which  to  Goethe 
meant  the  same  as  "Faust's  Immortal."    See  above,  p.  234. 


THE   SIGNIFICANCE  OF   FAUST.  325 

This  conclusion  may  be  criticized  for  two  reasons.  First, 
according  to  Goethe's  own  plan,  Faust  must  be  saved  not  through 
a  fault  of  Alephistopheles,  but  through  his  own  merit;  and 
secondly,  the  fault  which  Goethe  here  imputes  to  Mephistopheles 
is  not  in  keeping  with  his  character.  Mephistopheles  is  not  the 
Devil  of  lust.  He  is  the  malevolent  intriguer  and,  with  all  his 
devilish  features,  w^ould  never  be  silly  enough  to  be  so  easily 
duped.  So  we  say  that  the  passage  under  consideration  is  out 
or  harmony  with  the  whole.     The  Devil  should  have  his  due. 

We  would  propose  to  change  the  scene  thus :  As  soon  as  Faust 
is  dead  Mephistopheles  summons  his  army  (as  Goethe  has  it) 
to  make  good  his  claims ;  the  devils  claw  the  body  of  Faust  with- 
out any  interference  on  the  part  of  the  angels,  and  while  the 
devils  try  to  snatch  it  away,  the  remains  fall  to  pieces.  We  see 
the  body  crumble  to  dust,  the  skull  and  the  bones  fall  down  and 
the  vestments  turn  to  rags.  The  Lemures  w^ould  sweep  the 
remains  into  the  grave  and  now  would  be  the  time  for  Mephis- 
topheles to  philosophize  on  the  vanity  of  life.  This  then  is  the 
fruit  of  all  his  labors,  and  here  he  holds  his  prize  to  the  attain- 
ment of  which  he  has  devoted  so  many  years.  What  is  Faust 
now?  A  heap  of  bones  and  ashes,  and  his  life  is  past  as  if  it 
never  had  been.  The  Lemures  shout  in  chorus :  "It  is  past." 
So  also  thinks  Mephistopheles,  and  Goethe  rightly  puts  these 
words  into  his  mouth : 

— Past!  a  stupid  word. 
If  past,  then  why? 

Past  and  pure  Naught,  complete  monotony ! 
What  good  for  us,  this  endlessly  creating? — 
What  is  created  then  annihilating? 
"And  now  it's  past!''    Why  read  a  page  so  twisted? 
'Tis  just  the  same  as  if  it  ne'er  existed, 
Yet  goes  in  circles  round  as  if  it  had,  however : 
I'd  rather  choose,  instead,  the  Void  forever." 

[  Vorbei !     Ein  dummes  Wort. 
Warum  vorbei? 

Vorbei  und  reines  Nichts,  volkommnes  Einerlei ! 
Was  soli  uns  denn  das  ew'ge  Schaff en ! 
Geschaffenes  zu  nichts  hinwegzuraffen ! 
"Da  ist's  vorbei  I"    Was  ist  daran  zu  lesen? 
Es  ist  so  gut,  als  war'  es  nicht  gewesen, 


326  GOETHE. 

Und  treibt  sicli  doch  im  Kreis,  als  wenn  es  ware. 
Ich  liebte  mir  dafiir  das  Ewig-Leere.] 

While  Mephistopheles  in  his  reaHsm  chngs  to  the  bodily  re- 
mains of  Faust  the  angels  appear,  and  in  the  place  where  his 
body  had  fallen  to  pieces  there  rises  the  transfigured  effigy  of 
Faust,  the  Faust  idea,  that  spiritual  self  of  him  which  survives 
death.  It  is  his  life's  work  and  the  blessings  which  he  leaves  to 
posterity,  symbolized  by  his  personality.  Mephistopheles  has 
taken  the  mortal  remains,  they  are  his  share  which  shall  not  be 
taken  from  him ;  he  overlooks  the  immortal  part  of  Faust's 
being,  for  he  is  spiritually  blind  and  does  not  value  it.  Thus 
Mephistopheles  has  only  helped  to  free  the  immortal  soul  from 
the  dross  of  all  its  mortal  ingredients,  and  now  the  angels  hail 
the  transfigured  Faust  and  lift  him  up  to  his  home,  whither  the 
ideal  of  womanhood,  das  czvig  JVciblicJie,  has  ever  since  been 
leading  him,  there  to  be  united  with  all  that  is  beautiful,  good, 
and  true, — with  God. 

This  is  the  meaning  of  the  Chorus  Mysticus  :"* 

Things  unremainable  [Alles   Vergangliche 

But  as  symbols  are  meant:  1st  nur  ein  Gleichniss ; 

The  unattainable  Das  Unzulangliche, 

Here  grows  to  event :  Hier  wird's  Ereigniss  ; 

Inefifable  though  be  the  good.                        Das  Unbesclireibliche, 

Here  it  is  done :  Hier  ist  es  gethan  ; 

Eternal  womanhood  Das    Ewig-Weibliche 

Leads  upward  and  on!  Zieht  uns  hinan.] 

That  eternal  home  which  to  Mephistopheles  is  a  nonentity 
is  after  all  the  only  true  existence  worthy  of  the  name ;  all  so- 
called  realities  are  merely  transient  symbols  of  the  eternal  in 
which  everything  finds  its  final  fulfilment  and  completion,  and  to 
find  this  goal  is  salvation. 

*  While  in  all  other  quotations  from  "Faust"  we  have  used  Bayard  Taylor's 
version  with  very  slight  deviations,  we  prefer  here  to  replace  his  lines  by  our 
own. 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS. 

GOETHE  does  not  belong  to  the  eccentric  class  of  poets. 
His  genius  is  not  abnormal,  btit  proves  him  to  be  an  all 
around  man.  He  was  a  man  of  affairs  in  the  world,  his  duties 
consisting  in  the  administration  of  a  small  territory,  one  of  the 
little  duchies  of  Thuringia.  Hence  it  is  natural  that  Goethe 
should  be  richer  in  thoughts  of  worldly  wisdom  than  any  other 
poet  from  earliest  antiquity  down  to  the  present  time. 

We  present  the  following  collection  of  terse  epigrams  and 
observations  in  poetical  form. 

A  hundred  years  thou  mayest  worship  fire, — 
Fall  in  but  once,  thou  art  consumed  entire. 

[Anbete  du  das  Feuer  hundert  Jahr, 

Dann  fall'  hinein!   Dich  frisst's  mit  Haut  und  Haar.] 


Were  to  the  sun  not  kin  our  eyne. 

They  ne'er  could  see  the  sun's  fair  beam. 

Lay  not  in  us  a  power  divine, 

Of  the  divine  how  could  we  dream? 

[War'  nicht  das  Auge  sonnenhaft, 

Die  Sonne  konnt'  es  nie  erblicken ; 
Lag'  nicht  in  uns  des  Gottes  eigne  Kraft, 

Wie  konnt'  uns  Gottliches  entziicken!] 

In  explanation  of  this  idea,  we  might  as  well  state  the  reverse 
thought.  Man — a  rational  being  with  moral  aspirations,  who 
acts  with  a  purpose,  who  plans  designs  and   follows  ideals  of 


328  GOETHE. 

attaining  higher  and  higher  aims — exists,  and  we  call  that  fea- 
ture of  being  which  we  admire  noble  and  good.  We  do  not 
regard  man's  existence  as  an  accidental  by-play  of  wild  forces, 
but  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  has  originated  as  a  necessary 
phase  in  evolution  according  to  the  natural  laws  of  the  universe. 
As  the  eye  originates  according  to  the  nature  of  ether  waves, 
man  with  his  aspirations  corresponds  to  the  constitution  of  the 
cosmic  order.  The  divinity  of  the  former  suggests  the  divinity 
of  the  latter.  If  the  ideal  man  appears  to  us  like  a  god,  super- 
human and  divine,  we  feel  justified  in  designating  the  cause 
that  has  produced  him  as  the  Godhead. 


Who  himself  and  others  knows 
Here  is  rightly  guided; 
Orient  and  Occident 
Are  no  more  divided. 

Proper  'tis  through  both  to  roam, 
And  in  either  feel  at  home. 
Moving  'tween  the  East  and  West, 
Surely  will  with  all  be  best. 

[Wer  sich  selbst  und  Andre  kennt, 
Wird  audi  hier  erkennen : 
Orient  und  Occident 
Sind  nicht  mehr  zu  trennen. 

Sinnig  zwischen  beiden  Welten 
Sich  zu  wiegen  lass'  ich  gelten ; 
Also  zwischen  Ost  und  Westen 
Sich  bewegen,  sei's  zum  Besten!] 


God  owns  all  the  Orient 

God  owns  all  the  Occident, 

Both  of  North  and  South  the  lands 

Peaceful  rest  in  God's  good  hands. 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND   POEMS. 


329 


[Gottes  ist  der  Orient, 
Gottes  ist  der  Occident, 
Nord-  und  siidliches  Gelande 
Ruht  ini  Frieden  seiner  Hande.] 


As  any  one  is 
So  is  his  God, 

And  thus  is  God 
Oft  strangely  odd. 


[Wie  Einer  ist. 
So  ist  sein  Gott ; 

Daruni  ward  Gott 
So  oft  zum  Spott.] 


Why  do  you  scoff  and  scout 
About  the  All  and  One  ? 

The  professor's  a  person  no 
doubt, 
God  is  none. 


[Was  soil  mir  euer  Hohn 
Ueber  das  All  und  Eine? 

Der  Professor  ist  eine  Person, 
Gott  ist  keine.] 


A  quiet  scholar  a  party  attended 
And  home  in  silence  his  steps  he  wended. 
When  asked  how  he  was  pleased,  he  said, 
''Were  people  books,  those  stayed  unread." 

[Aus  einer  grossen  Gesellschaft  heraus 

Ging  einst  ein  stiller  Gelehrter  zu  Haus. 

Man  f ragte :  "Wie  seid  ihr  zufrieden  gewesen?" 

''Waren's  Biicher,"  sagt'  er,  ''ich  wiird'  sie  nicht  lesen."] 


''The  Devil  take  the  human  race, 

They  drive  me  mad  for  anger!" 

So  I  decided  seriously 

Will  meet  none  any  more ! 

Will  leave  those  folks  all  to  themselves. 

To  God  and  to — the  devil. 

Yet  scarce  I  see  a  human  face 

But  I  fall  in  love  with  it. 


330 


GOETHE. 


[Der  Teufel  hoi'  das  Menschengeschlecht ! 

Man  mochte  rasend  werden. 

Da  nehm'  ich  mir  so  eifrig  vor : 

Will  Niemand  weiter  sehen, 

Will  all  das  Volk  Gott  und  sich  selbst 

Und  dem  Teufel  iiberlassen ! 

Und  kaum  seh'  ich  ein  Menschengesicht, 

So  hab'  iclrs  wieder  lieb.] 


OUA^\ 


When  in  the  infinite  appeareth 

The  same  eternal  repetition, 

When  in  harmonious  coalition 
A  mighty  dome  its  structure  reareth ; 
A  rapture  thrills  through  all  existence. 

All  stars,  or  great  or  small,  are  blessed. 
Yet  are  all  strife  and  all  resistance 

In  God,  the  Lord,  eternal  rest. 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND   POEMS.  331 

I  know  that  naught  belongs  to  me 
Except  the  thought  that  Hght  and  free 
Out  of  my  soul  is  flowing; 
Also  of  joy  each  moment  rare 
Which  my  good  fortune  kind  and  fair 
Upon  me  is  bestowing; 

[Ich  weiss,  dass  mir  nichts  angehort 
Als  der  Gedanke,  der  ungestort 
Aus  meiner  Seele  will  fliessen, 
Und  jeder  giinstige  Augenblick, 
Den  mich  ein  liebendes  Geschick 
Von  Grund  aus  lasst  geniessen.] 


If  not  of  this  rule  possessed  [Und  so  lang  du  das  nicht  hast, 

Of  dying  and  becoming.  Dieses  Stirb  und  Werde, 

Thou  art  but  a  sorry  guest  Bist  du  mir  ein  triiber  Gast 

In  a  glad  world  roaming.  Auf  der  schonen  Erde.] 


''Hast  immortality  in  mind. 
Wilt  thou  thy  reasons  give?" 
''The  most  important  reason  is. 
We  can't  without  it  live." 

["Du  hast  L^nsterblichkeit  im  Sinn; 
Kannst  du  uns  deine  Griinde  nennen?" 
"Gar  wohl !     Der  Hauptgrund  liegt  darin, 
Dass  wir  sie  nicht  entbehren  konnen."] 

We  are  a  fragment  of  this  world,  and  in  order  to  understand 
ourselves  we  must  look  beyond  the  limits  of  our  existence,  we 
must  see  the  causes  that  produced  us  and  the  effects  in  which 
we  continue.  The  nature  of  existence  is  a  constant  change,  a 
dying  off  and  a  new  becoming.  So  long  as  we  have  not  entered 
into  the  spirit  of  life,  we  are  not  fit  to  live,  and  our  belief  in 
immortality  is  ultimately  based  on  our  need  to  comprehend  our 
existence  as  a  part  of  the  infinite  whole. 


332 


GOETHE. 


])ie3cii,fic  m\)\  lo^{o|cu  aUDoxneiiJ 

2Iber  k^  trciblmmenokuct  vm 

X'Ctueu.i 


Time  mows  roses  and  thorns  amain; 

She  sows  them  and  mows  them  again  and  again. 

^  jK  * 

''Know  thou  thyself!"     How  does  self-knowledge  pay? 
Know  I  myself,  /  pass  at  once  away. 

[Erkenne  dich!     Was  hab'  ich  da  fur  Lohn? 
Erkenn'  ich  mich,  so  muss  ich  gleich  davon.] 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS. 


333 


"Why  keepest  thou  aloof?     Why  lonely 
Art  from  our  views  thou  turning?" 

I  do  not  write  to  please  you  only, 
You  must  be  learning! 

[''Warum  willst  du  dich  von  uns  alien 
Und  unsrer  Meinung  entfernen?" 

Ich  schreibe  nicht  euch  zu  gefallen; 
Ihr  sollt  was  lernen.] 


Many  cooks  will  spoil  the  broth, 
Beware  of  servants'  impositions; 

We  are  already,  by  my  troth, 
A  hospital  of  sick  physicians. 


A  fellow  says:  "I  own  no  school  nor  college; 
No  master  lives  whom  I  acknowledge; 
And  pray  don't  entertain  the  thought 
That  from  the  dead  I  e'er  learned  aught." 
This  if  I  rightly  understand 
Means,  'T'm  a  fool  by  my  own  command." 


334  GOETHE. 

[Ein  Quidam  sagt :  "Ich  bin  von  keiner  Schule; 
Kein  Meister  lebt,  mit  dem  ich  buhle; 
Audi  bin  ich  weit  davon  entfernt, 
Dass  ich  von  Todten  was  gelernt." 
Das  heisst,  wenn  ich  ihn  recht  verstand : 
'*Ich  bin  ein  Narr  auf  eigne  Hand."] 


A  he  when  spoken,  when  written  too, 
Win  poison  to  others  prove  and  to  you. 

[Habt  ihr  gelogen  in  Wort  und  Schrift, 
Andern  ist  es  und  euch  ein  Gift.] 


One  could  a  well-bred  child  beget, 
But  parents  are  not  well-bred  yet. 

[Man  konnt'  erzogne  Kinder  gebaren, 
Wenn  die  Eltern  erzogne  wiiren.] 


Who  plays  with  life,  will  never  find  his  way; 

Who  won't  command  himself  a  slave  remains  for  aye. 

[Wer  mit  dem  Leben  spielt  kommt  nie  zurecht ; 
Wer  sich  nicht  selbst  befiehlt,  bleibt  immer  Knecht.] 

*  ifj  ;Jj 

When  head  and  heart  are  busy,  say 
What  better  can  be  found  ? 
Who  neither  loves  nor  goes  astray, 
Were  better  under  ground. 

[Wenn  dir's  in  Kopf  und  Herzen  schwirrt, 
Was  willst  du  Bessres  haben? 
Wer  nicht  mehr  liebt  und  nicht  mehr  irrt, 
Der  lasse  sich  begraben.] 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  335 

Wouldst  thou  ever  onward  roam? 
Lo,  the  good  Hes  very  near. 
Learn  happiness  to  seize  at  home, 
For  happiness  is  always  here. 

[Willst  du  immer  weiter  schweifen? 
Sieh,  das  Gute  hegt  so  nah. 
Lerne  nur  das  Gliick  ergreifen, 
Denn  das  Gliick  ist  immer  da.] 


If  yestreen's  account  be  clear, 
Art  thou  brave  to-day  and  free, 
Meet  thy  morrow  with  good  cheer : 
Surely  t'will  auspicious  be. 


'^^ 


^^1 


The  world  has  not  been  made  of  mush  and  pies; 
So  live  not  in  Schlaraffian  paradise. 
There  are  hard  bites,  chew  bit  for  bit; 
Digest  your  food  or  choke  on  it. 

[Die  Welt  ist  nicht  aus  Brod  und  Mus  geschaffen; 

Drum  haltet  euch  nicht  wie  Schlaraffen; 

Harte  Bissen  gibt  es  zu  kauen, 

Ihr  miisst  erwiirgen  oder  verdauen.] 


336  GOETHE. 


Would  from  tradition  break  away, 

Original  I'd  be! 
The  feat  so  grand,  to  my  dismay, 

Greatly  discomfits  me. 
The  honor  of  being  autochthon 

Would  be  my  great  ambition. 
But  strange  enough,  I  have  to  own, 

I  am  myself  tradition. 

[Gern  war'  ich  Ueberliefrung  los 
Und  ganz  original ; 
Doch  ist  das  Unternehmen  gross 
Und  fi^ihrt  in  manche  Qual. 
Alt  Autochthone  rechnet'  ich 
Es  mir  zur  hochsten  Ehre, 
Wenn  ich  nicht  gar  zu  wunderlich 
Selbst  Ueberliefrung  ware.] 


When  eagerly  a  child  looks  round, 

In  his  father's  house  is  shelter  found. 

His  ear,  beginning  to  understand. 

Imbibes  the  speech  of  his  native  land. 

Whatever  his  own  experiences  are. 

He  hears  of  other  things  afar. 

Example  affects  him ;  he  grows  strong  and  steady 

Yet  finds  the  world  complete  and  ready. 

This  is  prized,  that  praised  with  much  ado; 

He  fain  would  be  somebody  too. 

How  he  can  work  and  woo,  how  fight  and  frown. 

Everything  has  been  written  down. 

Nay,  v/orse,  it  has  appeared  in  print. 

The  youth  is  baffled  but  takes  the  hint. 

It  dawns  on  him,  now,  more  and  more 

He  is  what  others  have  been  before. 

[Wenn  Kindesblick  begierig  schaut, 
Er  findet  des  Vaters  Haus  gebaut; 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  337 

Unci  wenn  das  Ohr  sich  erst  vertraut, 
Ihm  tont  der  Muttersprache  Laut ; 
Gewahrt  er  diess  und  jenes  nah, 
Man  fabelt  ihm,  was  fern  geschah, 
Umsittigt  ihn,  wachst  er  hei  an : 
Er  findet  eben  alles  gethan ; 
Man  riihmt  ihm  diess,  man  preist  ihm  das : 
Er  ware  gar  gern  auch  etwas. 
Wie  er  soil  wirken,  schaffen,  lieben, 
Das  steht  ja  alles  schon  geschrieben 
Und,  was  noch  schlimmer  ist,  gedruckt. 
Da  steht  der  junge  Mensch  verduckt 
Und  endlich  wird  ihm  offenbar : 
Er  sei  nur  was  ein  andrer  war.] 


War  waged  the  angels  for  the  right, 
But  they  were  beaten  in  every  fight. 
Yea,  everything  went  topsy  turvy 
Because  the  Devil  was  quite  nervy. 
He  kept  the  field  despite  their  prayer 
That  God  might  save  them  from  despair. 
Quoth  Logos,  who  since  eternity 
Had  clearly  seen  it  so  must  be, 
''Ye  angels  need  not  be  too  civil, 
But  fight  like  Satan,  like  the  devil ! 
Who  wins  the  day,  must  struggle  hard ; 
Do  ye  your  praying  afterward." 
The  maxim  needed  no  repeating 
And  lo !  the  Devil  got  his  beating. 
'Twas  done ;  the  angels  all  were  glad — 
To  be  a  devil  is  not  so  bad. 

[Die  Engel  stritten  fiir  uns  Gerechte, 
Zogen  den  Kiirzern  in  jedem  Gefechte; 
Da  stiirzte  denn  Alles  driiber  und  drunter, 
Dem  Teufel  gehorte  der  ganze  Plunder. 
Nun  ging  es  an  ein  Beten  und  Flehen ! 


338  GOETHE. 


Gott  ward  bewegt  herein  zu  sehen. 

Spricht  Logos,  clem  die  Sache  klar 

Von  Ewigkeit  her  gewesen  war : 

Sie  sollten  sich  keineswegs  geniren, 

Sich  auch  einmal  als  Teufel  geriren, 

Auf  jede  Weise  den  Sieg  erringen 

Und  hierauf  das  Tedeum  singen. 

Das  hessen  sie  sich  nicht  zweimal  sagen, 

Und  siehe,  die  Teufel  waren  geschlagen. 

NatiirHch  fand  man  hinterdrein, 

Es  sei  recht  hiibsch,  ein  Teufel  zu  sein.] 


You  have  the   Devil  underrated. 
I  cannot  yet  persuaded  be! 
A  fellow  who  is  all-behated, 
Must  something  be. 

[Ich  kann  mich  nicht  bereden  lassen, 
Macht  mir  den  Teufel  nur  nicht  klein : 
Ein  Kerl,  den  alle  Menschen  hasseii, 
Der  muss  was  sein!] 

H»  '!»  -i* 

To   Him   who   from   eternity,    self-stirred, 
Himself   hath   made   by   his   creative   word; 
To  Him  supreme  who  maketh   faith  to  be, 
Trust,  hope,  love,  power,  and  endless  energy; 
To  Him  who,  seek  to  name  him  as  we  will. 
Unknown   within   himself   abideth  still. 

— Tr.  by  J.  A.  Symonds. 

[Im  Namen  dessen,  der  Sich  selbst  erschuf, 
Von  Ewigkeit  in  schaffendem  Beruf ; 
In  Seinem  Namen,  der  den  Glauben  schafft, 
Vertrauen,  Liebe,  Thatigkeit  und  Kraft; 
In  Jenes  Namen,   der  so  oft  genannt, 
Dem  Wesen  nach  blieb  immer  unbekannt.] 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  339 

What  were  a  God  who  from  the  outside  stirred 
So  that  the  world   around   his   finger  whirred? 
He  from  within  the  universe  must  move, 
Nature   in   Him   and   Him   in   nature   prove. 
Thus  all  that  lives  and  moves  within  his  bliss 
Will  ne'er  his  power  and  ne'er  his  spirit  miss. 

[Was  war'  ein  Gott,  der  nur  von  aussen  stiesse, 
Im  Kreis  das  All  am  Finger  laufen  Hesse! 
Ihm  ziemt's  die  Welt  im  Innern  zu  bewegen, 
Natur  in  Sich,  Sich  in  Natur  zu  hegen, 
So  dass,  was  in  Ihm  lebt  und  webt  und  ist, 
Nie  Seine  Kraft,  nie  Seinen  Geist  vermisst.] 


The  soul  of  man,  too,  is  a  universe; 
Whence  follows  it  that  race  with  race  concurs 
In  naming  all  it  knows  of  good  and  true, 
God — yea,  its  own  God — and  with  honor  due 
Surrenders  to  His  sway  both  earth  and  heaven. 
Fears  Him,  and  loves,  where  place  for  love  is  given. 

— Tr.  by  J.  A.  Symonds. 

[Im  Innern  ist  ein  Universum  auch : 
Daher  der  Volker  loblicher  Gebrauch, 
Dass  Jeglicher  das  Beste,  was  er  kennt,, 
Er  Gott,  ja  seinen  Gott,  benennt, 
Ihm  Himmel  und  Erden  iibergiebt, 
Ihn  fiirchtet,  und  wo  moglich  liebt.] 


CLARCHEN  S  SONG. 

Gladness  [Freudvoll 

And  sadness  Und  leidvoll, 

And  pensiveness  blending;  Gedankenvoll  sein, 

Yearning  Langen 

And  burning  Und  bangen 

In  torment  ne'er  ending;  In  schwebender  Pein, 


340 


GOETHE. 


Sad  unto  death, 
Proudly  soaring  above; 

Happy  alone 
Is  the  soul  filled  with  love. 


Himmelhoch  jauchzend, 
Zum  Tode  betriibt, 
Gliicklich  allein 
1st  die  Seele,  die  liebt.] 


FIVE    THINGS. 


What  makes  time  short  to  me? 

Activity ! 
What  makes  it  spiritless? 

Idleness ! 
What  brings  into  debt? 

To  delay  and  forget! 
What  makes  us  succeed? 

Decision  with  speed ! 
How  honor  to  gain  ? 

Oneself  maintain! 


[Was  verkiirzt  mir  die  Zeit? 


Thatigkeit ! 


Was   macht   sie   unertraglich 
lang  ? 

Miissiggang ! 
Was  bringt  in  Schulden  ? 

Harren  und  Dulden ! 
Was  macht  gewinnen? 


Nicht  lange  besinnen ! 
bringt  zu  Ehi 
Sich  wehren!] 


Was  bringt  zu  Ehren? 


VANITAS!   VANITATUM   VANITAS  ! 

My  trust  in  nothing  now  is  placed, 

Hurray ! 
So  in  the  world  true  joy  I  taste, 

Hurray ! 
Then  he  who  would  be  a  comrade  of  mine 
Must  clink  his  glass,  and  in  chorus  combine 
And  drink  his  cup  of  wine. 


I  placed  my  trust  in  gold  and  wealth, 

Hurray ! 
But  then  I  lost  all  joy  and  health, 

Lack-a-day ! 
Both  here  and  there  the  money  rolled, 
And  when  I  had  it  here,  behold, 
There  disappeared  the  gold ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  341 

I  placed  my  trust  in  women  next, 

Hurray ! 
How  sorely  was  I  thereby  yexed, 

Lack-a-day ! 
The  False  another  loyer  sought. 
The  True  with  tediousness  was  fraught, 
The  Best  could  not  be  bought. 

I  took  to  travel  and  started  to  roam, 

Hurray ! 
Cast  off  the  habits  of  my  home, 

Lack-a-day ! 
But  not  a  single  thing  seemed  good. 
The  beds  were  bad,  and  strange  the  food. 
And  I  not  understood. 

In  honor  trusted  I  and  fame, 

Hurray ! 
Another  put  me  straight  to  shame, 

Lack-a-day ! 
And  when  I  had  achieved  advance 
The  people  looked  at  me  askance, 
With  none  I  had  a  chance. 

I  placed  my  trust  in  war  and  fight. 

Hurray ! 
We  gained  full  many  a  victory  bright. 

Hurray ! 
Into  the  foeman's  land  we  crossed, 
Alas,  though,  at  our  triumph's  cost ! 
For  there  a  leg  I  lost. 

In  nothing  now  my  trust  shall  be, 

Hurray ! 
And  all  the  world  belongs  to  me, 

Hurray ! 
And  as  we  end  our  feast  and  strain, 


342  GOETHE. 

The  cup  we'll  to  the  bottom  drain ; 

— After  Boivring. 


Let  nowhere  dregs  remain ! 


[Ich  hab'  mein  Sach  auf  Nichts  gestellt, 

Juchhe ! 
Drum  ist's  so  wohl  mir  in  der  Welt; 

Juchhe ! 
Und  wer  will  mein  Camerade  sein, 
Der  stosse  mit  an,  der  stimme  mit  ein, 
Bei  dieser  Neige  Wein. 


'fc»' 


Ich  stellt'  mein  Sach  auf  Geld  und  Gut, 

Juchhe ! 
Dariiber  verier  ich  F^^A^id'  und  Muth ; 

O  well! 
Die  Miinze  rollte  hier  und  dort, 
Und  hascht  ich  sie  an  einem  Ort, 
Am  andern  war  sie  fort ! 

Auf  Weiber  stellt'  ich  nun  mein  Sach, 

Juchhe ! 
Daher  mir  kam  viel  Ungemach ; 

O  weh ! 
Die  Falsche  sucht'  sich  ein  ander  Theil, 
Die  Treue  macht'  mir  Langeweil', 
Die  Beste  war  nicht  feil. 

Ich  stellt'  mein  Sach  auf  Reis'  und  Fahrt, 

Juchhe ! 
Und  Hess  meine  Vaterlandesart ; 

O  weh! 
Und  mir  behagt'  es  nirgends  recht, 
Die  Kost  war  fremd,  das  Bett  war  schlecht, 
Niemand  verstand  mich  recht. 

Ich  stellt'  mein  Sach  auf  Ruhm  und  Ehr, 
Juchhe ! 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  343 

Und  sieh !  gleich  hatt'  eiii  Andrer  mehr ; 

O  well ! 
Wie  ich  mich  hatt'  hervorgethan, 
Da  sahen  die  Leute  scheel  mich  an, 
Hatte  Keinem  recht  gethan. 

Ich  setzt'  mein  Sach  auf  Kampf  und  Krieg, 

Juchhe ! 
Und  uns  gelang  so  mancher  Sieg; 

Juchhe ! 
Wir  zogen  in  Feindes  Land  hinein, 
Dem  Freunde  sollt's  nicht  viel  besser  sein, 
Und  ich  verlor  ein  Bein. 

Nun  hab'  ich  mein  Sach  auf  Nichts  gestellt, 

Juchhe ! 
Und  mein  gehort  die  ganze  Welt; 

Juchhe ! 
Zu  Ende  geht  nun  Sang  und  Schmaus. 
Nur  trinkt  mir  alle  Neigen  aus ; 
Die  letzte  muss  heraus!] 


TO    THE    MOON. 

Fillest  hill  and  vale  again 

With  thy  misty  light, 

Loosest  from  the  world's  cold  chain 

All  my  soul  to-night. 

Spreadest  round  me  far  and  nigh 
Soothingly  thy  smile. 
From  thee  as  from  friendship's  eyes 
Sorrow  shrinks  the  while. 

Every  echo  thrills  my  heart; 
Glad  and  gloomy  mood, 
Joy  and  sorrow  both  take  part 
In  my  solitude. 


344  GOETHE. 

Flow  along,  dear  river,  flow ! 
Joy  for  aye  is  sped; 
Glee  and  kisses  even  so, 
Yea  and  troth,  have  fled. 

Once  that  price  did  I  possess 
Which  I  yearn  for  yet. 
And,  alas,  to  my  distress 
Never  can  forget. 

Murmur,  brook,  the  vale  along, 
Never  rest  nor  stay, 
Murmur,  whisper  to  my  song, 
The  melodious  lay. 

Whether  in  a  winter's  night 
Rise  thy  swollen  floods. 
Or  in  spring  thou  hast  delight 
Watering  young  buds. 

Happy  he  who,  hating  none, 
Leaves  the  world's  dull  noise, 
And  with  trusty  friend  alone 
Quietly  enjoys 

What,  forever  unexpressed. 

Hid  from  common  sight, 

Through  the  mazes  of  the  breast 

Softly  steals  by  night. 

— Tr.  after  J.  S.  Dwight. 

[Fiillest  wieder  Busch  und  Thai 
Still  mit  Nebelglanz, 
Losest  endlich  audi  einmal 
Meine  Seele  ganz; 

Breitest  iiber  mein  Gefild 
Lindernd  deinen  Blick, 


MISCELLANEOUS  EPIGRAMS  AND  POEMS.  345 

Wie  des  Freundes  Auge  mild 
Ueber  mein  Geschick. 

Jeden  Nachklang  fiihlt  mein  Herz 
Froh-  und  triiber  Zeit, 
Wandle  zwischen  Freud'  und  Schmerz 
In  der  Einsamkeit. 

Fliesse,  fliesse,  lieber  Fluss! 
Nimmer  werd'  ich  froh ! 
So  verrauschte  Scherz  und  Kuss, 
Und  die  Treue  so. 

Ich  besass  es  doch  einmal, 
Was  so  kosthch  ist, 
Dass  nian  doch  zu  seiner  Oual 
Nimmer  es  vergisst. 

Rausche,  Fkiss,  das  Thai  entlang 
Ohne  Rast  und  Ruh, 
Rausche,  fliistre  meinem  Sang 
Melodien  zu! 

Wenn  du  in  der  Winternacht 
Wiithend  iiberschwillst 
Oder  um  die  Fruhhngspracht 
Junger  Knospen  quillst. 

Selig,  wer  sich  von  der  Welt 
Ohne  Hass  verschliesst, 
Einen  Freund  am  Busen  halt 
Und  mit  ihm  geniesst, 

Was  von  Menschen  nicht  gewusst, 
Oder  nicht  bedacht, 
Durch  das  Labyrinth  der  Brust 
Wandelt  in  der  Nacht.] 


346  GOETHE. 

These  are  fair  examples  of  Goethe's  wisdom  in  verse.  They 
could  be  multiplied  almost  without  limit,  and  many  of  them  have 
become  household  words,  known  in  translation  in  the  languages 
of  all  civilized  countries. 

Goethe's  greatness  consists  in  the  humanity  of  his  character. 
He  is  a  man,  an  extraordinarily  normal  man.  He  incorporates 
in  himself  everything  human.  He  is  a  warm  lover,  he  is  a  faith- 
ful friend,  he  is  a  devout  worshiper.  He  is  not  a  Christian,  but 
he  is  not  un-Christian  or  anti-Christian.  On  the  contrary  he 
exhibits  an  intense  interest  in  Christian  faith  and  doctrine. 
Nevertheless  his  mind  has  room  for  other  religions,  and  his 
Christian  attitude  is  only  one  among  many.  It  is  peculiar  of 
Goethe  that  he  believes  in  positive  faith  and  declares  that  only 
the  ages  which  stand  for  some  definite  statements  of  truth  have 
been  efficient  in  history ;  that  negativism,  be  it  ever  so  ingenious, 
has  never  produced  enduring  results. 

Goethe  is  not  a  philosopher  but  he  is  a  thinker.  He  is  not 
a  scientist,  but  has  contributed  some  results  of  scientific  thought 
to  the  history  of  science  and  foresaw  the  truth  of  evolution 
when  that  doctrine  was  still  limited  to  a  narrow  circle  of  ad- 
vanced naturalists.  He  is  an  unbeliever,  an  infidel,  in  the  view 
of  orthodox  theology,  but  a  devotee  of  the  divinity  of  nature, 
yea,  we  may  say  a  high  priest  at  her  altar. 

This  book  on  Goethe  is  not  intended  to  exhaust  the  entire 
field,  but  to  serve  as  an  introduction  to  his  work  and  to  set  forth 
in  general  outlines  the  significance  of  his  world  conception  in  the 
literature  of  humanity,  though  there  are  many  branches  of  his 
literary  activity  which  have  scarcely  been  touched  upon.  If  we 
have  contributed  our  mite  to  increase  the  general  comprehension 
of  his  thought  and  aspiration  we  deem  our  labors  richly  re- 
warded. 


INDEX. 

Italic  figures  denote  the  pages  where  may  be  found  a  complete  translation 
followed  by  the  German  text. 


"A  fellow  says :  'I  own  no  school  nor 
college,'  "  333. 

"A  lie  when  spoken,  when  written 
too."  334. 

A  priori,  242. 

Achim  Bacrwalde,  A.  von,   131. 

Aennchen.      See   "Schonkopf,   Kitty." 

Agrippa  von  Nettesheim,  98,  289.  291. 

Ahasverus,  33. 

Aja,  Frau.  See  "Goethe,  Catharine 
Elizabeth.'' 

Aldobrand  wedding,  158. 

Alexander  VI,  Pope,  287. 

"Alexis  and  Doris,  an  Idyl,"  45. 

Amalia,  Duchess.  See  "Anna  Amalia, 
Duchess  of  Saxe-Weimar." 

America,  Poem  on,  60,  61;  G's  ref- 
erences to,  57. 

Amos,  195. 

Animals,  Metamorphosis  of,  249. 

Anna  Amalia,  Duchess  of  Saxe-Wei- 
mar, 29-31,  Z2>,  42,  109,  115-118,  154, 
248;  Circle  of,  118;  Death  of,  53; 
Portraits  of,  116,  117. 

Annette.     See  "Schonkopf.  Kitty." 

"Antepirrhema,"   260. 

Anti-Christian,  G.  not,   195,  207,  346. 

Antixenions,  46. 

Apollo  bust  of  G.,  143. 

Appointments,  36. 

"Apprentice  in   Magic,"  47. 

Ardennes,    Campaign    in    the,    44. 

Arendswald,  64. 


Aristotle,'  230,  287. 

Arndt,  55. 

Arnim,  Bettina  von  {ncc  Brentano), 
53-54.  70,  103,  131-134.  167;  Por- 
traits of,  54,  131. 

Arnim,  Ludwig  Joachim  (Achim) 
von.  Portrait  of,   130. 

"Arrogant  'tis  surely  not,"  36. 

Art,  Greek,  283;  in  Dresden,  15;  in 
G's  home,  156;  Love  of,  149,  168; 
Love  of  Gothic,  17 ;  Taste  for,  in- 
fluenced by  Oeser,  12. 

Artern  on  the  Unstrut,  5,  8. 

"As  any  one  is,"  329. 

"At    last    before    the    good    Lord's 
throne,"  55-56. 

Atman,  229. 

Auerbach's  cellar,  313,  314. 

Aufsdtze  sur  Literatur,  93;^. 

Aurea  Catena  Homeri,  288. 

Autobiography.  See  "Truth  and  Fic- 
tion." 

"Awakening  of  Epimenides,"  55. 

Baccalaureus,  317-319. 

Bacon,  Roger,  285. 

Baer,  Karl  E.  von,  250. 

Bahrdt,  Karl  Friedrich,  S3<  272,  274- 
280;  Portrait  of,  275. 

Banse,  13. 

Baptism,  187,  189,  197. 

Basedow,  Johann  Bernhard,  28;  Por- 
trait of,  29. 


348 


GOETHE. 


Beaconsfield,  Lord,  4. 

Bebe.     See  "Schulthess,  Barbara." 

Becker,  80. 

Beethoven,    165,    167-168;    Sketch   of, 

167. 
Behrisch,  11. 
"Bequest,"  242,  243-244. 
Bernstein,  Countess,   193. 
Bertuch,  Friedrich  Justin,  ^y,  123. 
"Beyond,  The,"  228. 
Bible,  The,  193,  195,  196. 
Bielowski,  94. 
Blackie,  288. 

Bliicher,  Field  Marshal,  55. 
Bode,  Wilhelm,  35«. 
Bodmer,  Jakob,  31,  105. 
Boehme,  Jacob,  289. 
Bohme,  Madame,  11. 
Bohemian  taste  of  G.,  156. 
Boie,  Heinrich  Christian,  32. 
Bowring,  Edgar  Alfred,  Translations 

by,    114,    213,    2I9»,   220,    227.    253, 

280,  281,  342. 
Brahman  view  of  soul,  230. 
Breitkopf,  159. 
Brentano,  Bettina.     See  "Arnim,  Bet- 

tina  von." 
Brentano,  Clemens,  130,  132, 
Brentano,    Maximiliana.      See    "La 

Roche,  Maximiliana." 
"Bride  of  Corinth,"  47. 
Brion,   Friederike,    18,  20,   37,  84-95 ; 

Correspondence    with,    92 ;     Falk's 

portrait  of,  87 ;  Handwriting  of,  88 ; 

Lewes  on,  87-88;  Parting  from,  90. 
Brosigke,  136. 

Biichner,  E.,  Drawings  by,  7,  71. 
Buddhism,  229. 
Buff,  Charlotte  Sophie  Henriette,  24, 

99-100. 
Burg,  262. 
Biirger,  154. 

Burnt  offerings,  180-182. 
Bury,  F.,  Crayons  by,  52,  121. 
"By  the  conceited  man,"  27. 
Byron,  Lord,  4. 

Cabala,  287. 

Caricature,  A  contemporary,  261 ;   of 


Beethoven,  167;  of  G.,  167;  of 
Xenions,  46. 

Cams,  Karl  Gustav,  156. 

Carus,  Paul,  Goethe  and  Schiller's 
Xenions,  ^6n ;  History  of  the  Devil, 
300» ;  Translations  by,  27,  36,  50, 
55-56,  61,  68,  72,,  74,  92,  115,  123. 
127,  130,  158,  176,  196,  201-206,  208- 
210,  212,  213,  219,  220,  223,  224-226, 
239-240,  243-244,  245-247,  251,  256- 
257»  259-260,  268,  276-278,  280,  281, 
304,  326,  327-340. 

Castle  Kochberg  on  the  Stein  estate, 
119. 

Catechism,   191. 

Categorical   imperative,  242. 

Catherine,  Landgravine  of  Hesse- 
Darmstadt,  21,  33. 

Catholic  ceremonies,  187,  192. 

Charlotte.     See  "Buff,  Charlotte." 

Chodowiecki,  26,  27. 

Christiana.  See  "Vulpius,  Christiana." 

Christianity,  Attitude  toward,  182,  185. 
T93.  195,  196,  197,  208,  213,  222,  274, 
346. 

"Clarchen's  Song,"  339-340. 

Classic  defined,  167. 

"Clavigo,"  2)2,  91. 

Clermont,  Helene  Elisabeth  von.  See 
"Jacobi,  Betty." 

Coat  of  arms,  36. 

"Color,  Doctrine  of,"  49. 

Confession,  179,  192. 

"Confessions  of  a  Beautiful  Soul,"  95- 
98. 

Constantin,  Duke,  115. 

Constantine,  Prince,  29. 

Contrasts,  222,  223. 

"Conversations  with  Eckermann,"  57; 
Quotations  from,  145,  155,  156,  175- 
176,  193,  230,  234. 

Copernicus,  242. 

Cornell  Studies  in  Philosophy,  273. 

"Correspondence  with  a  Child,"  54, 
133 ;  with  Friederike,  92 ;  with  Ja- 
cobi, 185-187;  with  Karl  August, 
59;; ;  with  Marianne  von  Willemer, 
136 ;  with  Trap,  81 ;  with  Zelter, 
•59"- 


INDEX 


349 


Cosmopolitan  character  of  G.,  57. 
Cotta,  Johann  Friedrich.  (Baron  Cot- 

tendorf),  127,  170. 
Courtier,  G.  as  a,  167-168. 
Craford,  Alexander  W.,  273,11. 
Creation,  G's  early  views  of,  182-184. 
"Critic,  The,"  280. 
Criticism,  G's  dislike  of,  273,  274,  276 ; 

Higher,  Z2>,  I95,  222,  273,  274,  279; 

of  G.  by  Merck,  21 ;  of  G.  by  Nico- 

lai.    28;    of    Homer,    273,    279;    of 

Wieland,  22,- 
Cupid  feeding  a  nightingale,  114,  115. 
Curse  of  the  French  girl,  84.  86. 

Darmstadt,  Trip  to,  21. 

Death  of  G.,  62-63. 

"Dedication,"   121. 

Denzler-Ernst,  Dr.,  106. 

"Descent  of  Jesus  Christ  into  Hell, 
Poetical  Thoughts  on  the."  11. 

Deussen,  Paul,  128. 

Deutsche  Haus,  The,  100. 

Devil,  Conjuring  the,  299,  300;  Con- 
tract with  the,  298;  Verses  on.  :^^'j, 
338. 

"Devil  take  the  human  race,"  329. 

Diana  of  the  Ephesians,  209. 

"Divine,  The,"  37,   199,  204-205,  206. 

Doctor  degree,  18-19. 

Dogma,  195,  197. 

Dramas,  Characters  of,  146. 

Dresden  Shoemaker,  14,  15. 

Dress,  159, 

"Drop  all  of  transiency,"  226. 

"Drop  the  transient,"  227. 

Dualism,  230. 

Duisburg,  147. 

Diintzer,  94,  276. 

Dwight,  J.  S.,  344- 

Earth-spirit,  Symbol  of  the,  282. 
Eberlein,  Sculpture  by,  51. 
Eckermann,    Johann    Peter,    57,    136, 

230;  Portraits  of,  58,  59.     See  also 

"Conversations    with    E." 
"Efifect  at  a  Distance,"  56,  239-241. 
"Egmont,"  2,7,  38,  282. 


Ehrenbreitstein,  loi. 

Einsiedel,  Friedrich  Hildebrand  von, 

113,  114,  117. 
"Elective  Affinities,"  56,   147;   Ottilie 

in,  133- 
Entelechy,    228,    229,    230,    231,    234, 

324W. 
"Epigrams   of  Venice,"   45. 
"Epirrhema,"  259. 
Erfurt,  Congress  of,  55. 
"Ergo  Bibamns,"  57. 
Erlkonig,  48,  109. 
Eternity,  228. 
Ettersburg,  108. 
Evolution,    Doctrine   of,   43,    57,    251, 

328. 

Fahlmer,  Johanna,  (Tantchen),  82. 
Faith,    177,    178,    196;    Confession   of, 

197,   199. 

"Faithful  Eckart,"  57. 

Falk,  Johann  Daniel,  151,  154,  195, 
2o8Mj  230,  233 ;  portrait  of  Friede- 
rike,  87. 

Father  of  G.  See  "Goethe,  Johann 
Caspar." 

Faust  legend,  285,  298,  300,  301. 

"Faust"  of  G:  Composition,  20,  33, 
38,  56,  62,  98,  118;  Gretchen  in,  77; 
Significance  of,  282-326;  Quotations 
from,  198-199,  214-216,  220-221, 
228,  272,  273,  282,  283,  287,  289, 
291-298,  304,  305,  306,  307-311,  312, 
313,  315.  316,  318-319^  320-321,  322- 
324,  325,  326. 

"Faust"  of  other  writers,  300,  301. 

Faustus,  283. 

"Fellow  Culprits,"   13. 

Finances  of  G.,  170. 

Finucci,  Francesco,  40. 

"Fisher,  The,"  37. 

"Fisher   Maiden,"    108-111. 

"Five  Things,"  340. 

Flachsland,  ]\Iaria  Caroline,  21 ;  Por- 
trait of,  20. 

Fleischer,  F.,  63. 

Fludd.  Robert,  288. 

Frankfort,  Bridge  Over  the  Main  at, 
134;    French   occupation   of,   9;    G. 


350 


GOETHE. 


born  in;  i ;    G.  convalescent  in,  95 ; 
Goethe   home   in,   7;   Visits   at,   37, 

49,  134,  136. 
Frankfurter    Gelehrten-Anseiger,    32, 

276. 
Frederick  the  Great,  9,  30. 
Friederike.     See  "Brion,  Friederike.'' 
Fritsch,    Frau    Henriette    von,     {nee 

Wolfskell),  117. 
Froitzheim,  I.,  94,  95. 
"From  father  my  inheritance,"  68. 
Frommel,  133. 
Froriep,  A.  von,  52. 

"Ganymede,"    199,  203,  206. 
Garden  house,  G.'s,  34-36,   i59- 
Gardening,  159. 
Gellert,     Christian     Fiirchtegott,     11, 

162-166;     Portraits    of,    162,    163; 

Six  songs  of,  165-166. 
Genius,  146. 
Gerstenberg,  32. 
Gibson,  WilHam,  Translations  by,  124, 

203. 

Gickelhahn,  Hut  on  the,  217,  218,  219. 

Giere,  Julius,  24. 

Gingo  tree,  222,  223. 

Gleim,  Johann  Ludwig,  152-155. 

Gnomide.  See  ''Gochhausen,  Frau- 
lein  von. 

Gochhausen,    Fraulein   von,    117-118. 

"God  and  the  Bajadere,"  47. 

"God  and  World,"  242. 

God,  Conception  of,  177,  180,  208; 
Description  of,  220;  Faust's  belief 
in,  199;  of  Old  Testament,  178,  185; 
Personality  of,  329, 

God-Nature,  Conception  of,  50. 

"God,  Sentiment  and  the  World,"  219. 

"Gods,  Heroes  and  Wieland,"  33. 

Goethe,  Alma  Sedina  Henrietta  Cor- 
nelia von,  65,  136. 

Goethe,  August  von,  42 ;  Death  of,  61 ; 
Marriage  of,  136;  Portraits  of.  44, 
53,  62. 

Goethe,  Catharine  Elizabeth,  i,  8, 
67-73 ;  Death  of,  54 ;  Portrait  of,  68. 

Goethe,  Christiana.  See  "Vulpius, 
Christiana." 


Goethe,  Cornelia,  8,  72,  77-^2,  83,  149; 

Portraits  of,  77,  78. 
Goethe,  Johann  Caspar,   i,  8;   Death 

of,  38;  Portrait  of,  69. 
Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang,  Drawings 

In',  10,  39,  77,  89,  119,  122,  123,  150, 

151,  152,  .153,  ^^Z;  Portraits  of:  By 

Bury,  52;  by  himself,  150;  by  Kolbe, 

139;  by  Lips,  265;  by  Maclise,  167; 

by    May,    67;    by    Rumpf,    172;    by 

Schmeller,  59;  by  Schwerdgeburth, 

145,   169;  by  Tischbein,  40,  41;  by 

Trippel,    144;    on    the    Gickelhahn, 

218. 
Goethe,    Ottilie   von    {nee  Von    Pog- 

wisch),  62,,  168;   Portrait  of,  137. 
Goethe,   Walther   Wolfgang,   63,    136, 

158. 
Goethe,    Wolfgang    Maximilian    von, 

64,  136. 
Goethe   Family   of   Frankfort,   70. 
Goethe-Gesellschaft,  149. 
Goethe  Museum  at  Weimar  {Goetlie- 

Nationabnuscuni),  23,  58,63,97,  158. 
"Goetz    von     Berlichingen,"    20,    28, 

91,  265,  282. 
Gore,  Charles,   117. 
Gore,   Elise,    117. 
Gore,  Emilie,   117. 
Gossip,  175. 

Gottinger  Deutsche  Museum,  32. 
Goftinger    Musenalmanach,    154. 
Gottsched,    Johann    Christoph,     159- 

162 ;    Portraits   of,    161,    162. 
Graff,  Anton,   109,   163. 
Grandchildren  of  G.  in  poet's  house, 

64. 
"Great   is    Diana   of   the   Ephesians," 

208-210. 
Greece,   x^rt  of.   17,  283;    Civilization 

of,  229 ;  Gods  of,  207,  208,  222,  274 ; 

World-conception  of,  204,  207. 
Gretchen,    91,    92;    Connection    with, 

74-77,  80;  in  "Faust,"  77. 
Grimm,   Hermann,  70. 
Grimm,  Ludwig  E.,  262. 
Groger,  31. 
Gustchen.      See    "Stolberg,    Countess 

Augusta  von." 


INDEX 


351 


Gutermann,  loi. 

Gwinner,  Wilhelm  von,   128. 

Hackert,    Philipp,  40. 

Hadrian,  237, 

Haid,  163 ;  Engraving  by,  26. 

Hainbund,  31. 

Haller,  Albrecht  von,  Portrait  of,  250. 

Handwriting    of    Friederike,    88;    of 

Goethe,  126,  335 ;  of  Schopenhauer, 

126. 
Hardenberg,  Friedrich  von  (NovaHs) 

271,  272. 
Harper's  song,  Z7,  304- 
Hasenkampf,  Rector,  147. 
"Hast  immortality  in  mind,"  331. 
Hatfield,  Prof.  J.  T.,  223,  269. 
Hayward,  289. 
"He  only  who  knows  longing's  pain,'' 

37- 

Health  of  G.,    143-146,   173-174. 

Heine,  Heinrich,  272;  Portrait  of, 
270. 

Held,  L.,  156. 

Helen,  283. 

Henckel  von  Donnersmarck,  Coun- 
tess, 136. 

Herder,  Johann  Gottfried  von,  15-16, 
28,  32,  38,  105,  117,  197,  264,  265, 
268,  272,  282,  289;  Portrait  of,  262; 
Portrait  of  his  wife,  20. 

Herdt,   Frau,  22. 

"Hermann  and  Dorothea,"   45. 

Heroes  of  G's  works,  282. 

Herzlieb,  Minna,  56,  133-134;  Por- 
trait of,  132. 

Heygendorf,  Frau  von.  See  "Jage- 
mann,  Karoline." 

Heynacher,   Max,  21 1«. 

Hirzel,   Solomon,   68. 

Homburg.  loi. 

Homer,  Aiirea  Catena  of,  288 ;  Higher 
criticism  of,  273,  279. 

Homunculus,  Wagner  preparing  his, 
317,  318. 

Horen,  Die,  45,  170. 

Horn,  Johann  Adam,  9-1 1;  Portrait 
of,  10. 

Horoscope,  cast  by  A.  J.   Pearce,  2; 


described    by    G.,    i ;    described   by 

R.  Shirley,  2. 
Humanity  of  G.,  142,  224,  346. 
Hummel,  J.  N.,  226. 
"Hundred  years  thou  mayest  worship 

fire,"  327. 
"Hunter's   Evening   Song,"    105, 
Hypochondria,  174, 

"I  know  that  naught  belongs  to  me," 

33I' 
"If  the  ass   that  bore  the   Saviour," 

213- 

"If  yestreen's  account  be  clear,"  335. 

Immortal  of  Faust,  234,  324. 

Immortality,  Belief  in,  225,  226,  229, 
234-235,  331;  Egyptian,  227;  .Rea- 
sons for,  331. 

Improvisation,   154-155. 

"In  nothing  have  I  placed  my  trust," 
57,  340. 

"In  the  w^ilderness  a  holy  man,"  212- 

213- 

Infidel,  G.  an,   195,  196,  222,  346. 
"Interlude,  An,"  226. 
Intermaxillary  bone,  57,  249,  255. 
"Iphigenia  in  Tauris,"  ^,7,  38,  105,  108. 
Isaiah,  195. 

"It  matters  not  I  ween,"  227. 
Italy,  38,  42,  158,  2Z7. 
Ixion,  212. 

Jacobi,  Betty  {nee  Von  Clermont), 
82. 

Jacobi,  Friedrich  Heinrich,  29,  82,  201, 
273;  Death  of,  187;  Portrait  of, 
186;  "On  Divine  Things,"  185-187. 

Jacobi,  Max,  249. 

Jacoby,  Giinther,  282. 

Jagemann,  Drawing  by,  264 ;  Paint- 
ing by,  117. 

Jagemann,  Karoline  (Frau  von  Hey- 
gendorf), 127-130;  Portrait  of,  128. 

Jahrbnch  der  Schopenhauer-GeseU- 
schaft,  128. 

Jappe,  Thomas  H.,  269. 

Jena,  Battle  of,  52. 

Jenaische  Literaturzeihmg,  Die,  yj- 


352 


GOETHE. 


Jerusalem,   Carl  Wilhelm,  22-24,  99  5 

Portrait  of,  23. 
Job,  Satan  accusing,  306,  307. 
"Johanna  Sebus,"  57. 
Joseph  II,  2)^. 
Jung,    Marianne.      See    "Willemer, 

Marianne  von." 
Jung,  Matthias,  135. 
Jung-Stilling,     Johann    Heinrich,    16, 

187 ;  Portrait  of,  18. 
Juvenilia,  yy,  149,  150,   151,   152,   153. 

Kanne,  Dr.  Karl,  84. 

Kant,  242. 

Karl,  Duke  of  Brunswick,  115. 

Karl  August,  Duke  of  Saxe-Weimar, 

30,  31,   Z^,   58,    115,    158,    168,    174; 

Correspondence  with,  59;? ;  Death  of, 

61 ;   Marriage  of,  2>2>  \   Portraits  of, 

34,  169. 
Karl  Bernhard,   Duke   of   Saxe-Wei- 
mar, 58-60. 
Karlsbad,  38,  171,  173. 
Kaufifmann,   Angelica,  40;     Paintings 

by,  42,  116. 
Kaulbach,  Pictures  by,  25,  75,  85,  104, 

107. 
Kestner,  Georg,  24,  99. 
Kestner,  Johann  Christian,  22,  99; 

Portrait  of,  24. 
Kleist,  Herr  von,  25. 
Klettenberg,   Susanna  Catharina  von, 

95-98,  187,  193-194;  Portrait  of,  97- 
Klimsch,  Eugen,  90. 
Klinger,     Friedrich     Maximilian,    32, 

265,  301 ;  Portrait  of,  263. 
Klopstock,  29,  31. 
Knebel,    Karl    Ludwig   von,   29,   228; 

Portrait  of,  30. 
"Know  thou  thyself!"  332. 
Koerner,  55. 
Konnecke,  35n. 
Kotzebue,  49. 
Kraus,  Georg  Melchior,  108,  109,115; 

Pictures  by,  no,  in,  112,  118. 
Kreling,  A.  von,  290. 
Kunstmeyer.      See     "Meyer,    Johann 

Heinrich." 


Lamarck,  250. 

Language  of  G.,  221. 

Laprade,  de,  on  America,  60. 

La  Roche,  Maximiliana,  101-102,  132; 
Portrait  of,  102. 

La  Roche,  Sophie  von,  101-103. 

Lasst  fahren  Jiin,  226-227. 

Lavater,  Johann  Caspar,  17,  28,  29, 
31,  147,  193-194;  Joke  played  on, 
274-275;  Physiognomische  Frag- 
mente,  69 ;  Portrait  of,  194. 

"Leaf  of  Eastern  tree  transplanted," 
223. 

Leibnitz,  231. 

Leipsic,  G.  at  the  University  of,  11- 
15,  159,  162;  Battle  of,  134. 

Leipsiger  Licderhuch,  13. 

Lenau,  301. 

Lenz,  Jacob  Michael  Reinhold,  16.  32, 
87,  88.  94;  Portrait  of,  17. 

Lerse,  16. 

Lessing,  22,,  201,  264,  265,  268,  272, 
301. 

Levetzow,  Friedrich  von,  136. 

Levetzow,  Ulrike  von,  136-139;  Min- 
iature of,  138. 

Lewes,  George  Henrv,  on  Friederike, 
87-88. 

Lichtenfels,  Georg  Michael  Frank  von 
(La  Roche),  102. 

Liezen-Mayer,  A.,  291,  294. 

"Life  I  never  can  divide,"  223. 

Lili.  See  "Schoenemann,  Anna  Eli- 
sabeth." 

"Lili's  Park,"  104,  105. 

"Limitations  of  Mankind,"  37,  199, 
204,  205-206,  225. 

Lips,  Johann  Hieronymus,  18,  34,  194, 
265. 

Lisbon,  Earthquake  at,  177. 

Loewe,  Karl,  47,  64;  Portrait  of,  48. 

Lolo,  82. 

Longfellow,  216,  218. 

Lord,  William  S.,  269. 

Lord's  Supper,  187-189,  192. 

Lotta,  Werther's,  25.  See  also  "Buff, 
Charlotte." 

Louis    Bonaparte.      See    "Napoleon 
III." 


\ 


1 


INDEX 


353 


Louise,  Duchess,  33,  38,  115. 
Lucifer,   183-184, 
Luden.   Prof.,   171. 
Luther.  192,  193,  283. 
Lyser,  J.  P.,  167. 

Maclise,  Daniel,  167. 

Macrocosm,   Symbol  of  the,  287-288. 

Magic,  285,  289,  299. 

Mahomet,  33. 

"Mahomet  and  Tancred,"  49. 

Malaprop,  A  German,  174. 

Manilius,  288. 

"Many   cooks    will    spoil    the   broth," 

333- 
Marie  Louise,  Poem  to  Empress,  57. 
Marlowe,   Christopher,  300,  301. 
Marriage,  of  G.,  53,   124;    Sacrament 

of,  189. 
Marx,  Frau  Pfarrer,  92. 
Masonry,  j^y,  60,  227,  242. 
Materialist,  G.  not  a.  238. 
May,  G.  O.,  67. 
Mayence,  Siege  of,  44. 
Mayne,  Dr.  H.,  108. 
Meixner,  Charitas,  81-82. 
Mendelssohn,  64. 
Mephistopheles,  and  the  Student,  291, 

292;    Contract    with,    283,    291-298; 

Features  of,  taken  from  Merck,  22. 
Merck,    Johann    Heinrich,    21-22,    32, 

loi ;  Portrait  of,  21. 
"Metamorphosis    of    Animals,    The," 

57,  256-259- 
"Metamorphosis  of  Plants,  The,"  43, 

159,  252-255. 
Metempsychosis,  236. 
Meyer,  Johann  Heinrich,  53.  116,  141, 

229. 
Microcosm,  288. 
Mignon,   in   "Wilhelm   Meister,"    107, 

304- 
Milton,  29,  211,  220, 
Mirandola,  Giovanni  Pico,  Count  of, 

285-289;   Portrait  of,  286. 
Monad,  228,  228,  231-233,  234,  237. 
Monist,  The,  229;?. 
Monotheism,  208,  211. 
"More  Light"  (painting),  63. 


Mother  of  G.    See  "Goethe,  Catharine 

Elizabeth." 
Miiller  (pseud,  of  G.),  38. 
Miiller,  Friedrich  {Maler),  26sn,  265. 
Miiller,   Friedrich   von    (Chancellor), 

146,  175,  234,  248;  Portrait  of,  236. 
Miiller,  Heinrich,  137. 
Musenalmanach,  32,  45,  46,  61,  252«. 
"Muses  and  the  Graces  in  the  Mark," 

46.    _ 
Mysticism,  229,  233 ;  Love  of,  285. 

Naeke's  "Pilgrimage  to  Sesenheim," 
92-93,  94. 

Napoleon  I,  Interview  with.  55 ;  Poem 
to  wife  of,  57. 

Napoleon  HI,  195. 

Napoleonic  wars.  57 ;  Frankfort  in, 
72. 

"Natural  Daughter,  The,"  49. 

Nature,  Devotee  of,  346;  G's  rhap- 
sody on,  245-24/ ;  the  ideal  of  ro- 
manticists, 271. 

"Nature  and  Art,"  268-271. 

"Nature,  Elucidation  to  the  Aphoristic 
Essay  on,"  248-250. 

Nature's  within   from  mortal   mind," 

Negativism,  346. 

Neues  Deutsches  Museum,  32. 

"New  Love,  New  Life,"   105. 

Ney,  Elisabet,  128,  129. 

Nicolai,  Christoph  Friedrich,  27-28, 
238;   Portrait  of,  26. 

Nirvana  of  G.,  242. 

Noon,  269. 

Nostradamus,  289. 

Novalis.  See  "Hardenberg,  Fried- 
rich von." 

Novels,  Pathological  character  of  G's, 
147. 

Objectivity  of  G's  genius,  146,  147. 

Occult  Review,  The,  2. 

Oeser,  Adam  Friedrich,  12;  Painting 

by,  13. 
Oeser,  Friederike  Elisabeth,   13. 
"On    Mieding^s    Death,"    Quotation 

from,  114. 


354 


GOETHE. 


"One  and  All,"  242,  243. 

"One  could  a  well-bred  child  beget," 

334- 
"Only  this  time  be  not  caught  as  yet," 

74- 
Open  Court,  The,  $211,  229/1. 
Oppenheim,  Moritz,  270. 
Orient  and  Occident,  Verses  on,  328. 
Orientalism,  229,  236. 
Ottilie  in  "Elective  Afifinities,"   133. 
"Our  rides  in  all  directions  bend,"  281. 
Oxenford,  John,  i«. 

Pagan,  G.  a,  185,  207,  212,  222. 

Pantheism  of  G.,  186,  207,  245,  248. 

"Parabasis,"  259. 

Paracelsus,  98,  287,  288, 

Parthey,  Dr.  G.,  174. 

Pathological  phenomena,  233. 

Pearce,  A.  J.,  Horoscope  cast  by,  2. 

Personality  of  God,  329;  of  Goethe, 
66,  143-176. 

Pessimism,  282 ;  Answer  to,  127. 

Pfenninger,  17. 

Pharisee,  225. 

Philosophy,  Dislike  for,  222 ;  Orien- 
tal, 229. 

Plants,  Metamorphosis  of,  249. 

Platonism,  287. 

Pogwisch,  Ottilie  von.  See  "Goethe, 
Ottilie  von." 

Polytheistic  tendencies,  182,  186,  204, 
207,  208,  211. 

Posthumous  Works,  60,  93». 

Potonie,  H.,  222«. 

Prayer,  196. 

Priest,  The  youthful,  181. 

Proemium,  338-339- 

"Prologue  to  the  Latest  Revelations 
of  God  interpreted  by  Dr.  Karl 
Friedrich   Bahrdt,"   276-279. 

Prometheus  compared  to  Faust,  282 ; 
compared  to  Satan,  211;  Fable  of, 
201 ;  Poem  on,  2>Z,  I99»  200,  201-203, 
206. 

"Proposal,"  73. 

"Prose  Sayings,"  234. 

Protestantism,  179,  187,  191,  192,  273, 
300,  304. 


"Quiet  scholar  a  party  attended,"  329. 

Raab,  Doris,  133. 

Radl,  A.,  134. 

Rahmhof,  The,  9. 

Raphael,  53. 

Redemption,   184. 

Reformation,  192,  193,  283. 

Reincarnation,  229,  2^6. 

Religion  of  progress,  197. 

Rembrandt,  P.,  288. 

Residences  of  G.,  7,  19,  157,  158. 

"Restless  Love,"  121. 

Resurrection,  225. 

"Reynard,  the  Fox,"  44. 

"Rhenish  Must,"   176. 

Riemer,    Friedrich    Wilhelm,    49,    57, 

205;?,  234;   Portrait  of,  235. 
Rieter-Ziegler,  Rudolf,  42«. 
Riggi,    Maddalena,    38,    40;    Portrait 

of,  42. 
Rincklacke,  31. 

Romanticism,  282 ;  Revival  of,  272. 
Rosebery,  Lord,  4. 
Roslein  auf  der  Haiden,  20. 
Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques,  263. 

Sachsenhausen,  Watch-tower  of,  149, 
151. 

Sacraments.  187-190,  197. 

"Sadducee  I'll  be  fore'er,"  223. 

St.  John's  day  fires,  176. 

St.  Leonhard,  Church  of,   151,   152, 

St.  Peter's,  View  of,  39. 

Salvation,  316;  of  Faust,  325-326; 
Scheme  of.   184,   191. 

Salzmann,   16. 

Sartoux,  Count,  8. 

Satan,  211;  accusing  Job,  306,  307. 

Scheible,  299. 

Scheppen,  A.,  3. 

Schiller,  Friedrich,  38,  lysn,  197,  252^, 
265.  267,  268;  Association  with,  45- 
47;  Death  of,  49;  G.-table  in  gar- 
den of,  50;  Portrait  of,  264;  Skull 
of,  50-52 ;  Success  of,  49. 

Schlegel  brothers,  272. 

Schlosser,  Johann  Georg,  11,  81,  83, 
159;  Portrait  of,  80. 


INDEX 


355 


Schmeller,  J.  J.,  Drawings  by,  44,  113, 
120,  236;   Painting  by,  59. 

Schmidt,  Erich,  94,  118. 

Schoenemann,  Anna  EHsabeth,  31,38, 
103-105 ;  Portrait  of,  103. 

Schonkopf,  Kitty,  84,  91,  92;  Portrait 
of,  83. 

Schopenhauer,  Arthur,  127-130;  Bust 
of,  129;  Couplet  dedicated  to,  125- 
127;  Love  poem  by,  130. 

Schopenhauer,  Johanna,  124;  and  her 
daughter  Adele,  Portrait  of,  125. 

Schroter,  Corona,  108-115;  Portraits 
of,  109,  112. 

Schubert,  Franz,  47,  48,  109,  218; 
Portrait  of,  47. 

Schuler,  82. 

Schulthess,  Barbara  {nee  Wolf),  105- 
108;  Portrait  of,  106. 

Schultz,  O.,  156. 

Schwabe,  Carl  Leberecht,  50. 

Schwanenfeld,  Franz  von,   173-174. 

Schweppenhauser,  Pastor,  93. 

Schwerdgeburth,  145,  169. 

Science  and  religion,  196. 

"Second  Sojourn  in  Rome,"  40. 

Seekatz,  J.  C,  70. 

Self-control,  272. 

Sesenheim,  92;  Parsonage  at,  86,  89; 
View  of,  91. 

Shirley,  Ralph,  2. 

Simm,  Franz,  284,  295,  303,  307,  3I3, 
317,  318,  319- 

Simplicity  of  G's  tastes,  156,  168. 

"Singer,  The,"  ^7. 

Sisyphus,  212. 

Skepticism  of  Haller,  250. 

Skull,  Origin  of  the,  249. 

Socrates,  33. 

"Song  of  the  Spirits  Over  the  Water," 
38,  224-225. 

Soul,  a  unity  of  system,  233;  Brah- 
man view  of,  230;  Conception  of 
the,  224,  228,  229;  -forms.  Preser- 
vation of,  237-238. 

Soret,  M.,  146. 

Spinoza,  29,  185. 

Spiritualist,  G.  not  a,  238. 

Staubbach,  Visit  to,  38. 


Stein,   Charlotte  von    {nee   Schardt), 

Z7,  38,  119-121,  142,  237;  Death  of, 

61 ;  Portraits  of,  140,  141. 
Stein,     Friedrich    Constantin    von, 

(Fritz),  Portrait  of,  120. 
"Stella,"  33. 
Stevens,  H.,  165. 
Stichling,  Councilor,  262. 
Stieler,  Joseph,  267. 
Stillen  im  Lande,  Die,  16,  179. 
Stolberg,  Count  Christian  von,  31,  105. 
Stolberg,    Count    Friedrich    Leopold 

von,  31,  105,  154. 
Stolberg,  Countess  Augusta  von,  105. 
Storber,  A.,  86. 
"Storm    and    Stress,"    a    drama    by 

Klinger,   263;    Period   of,   34,    147, 

199W,  265,  267,  271,  300. 
Strassburg,  15-20,  84. 
Study,  G's,  156. 
Sturm   und   Drang,    iggn.     See   also 

"Storm  and  Stress." 
Suicide,  G's  view  of,  148;  of  Jerusa- 
lem, 22,  99 ;  of  Merck,  22 ;  of  von 

Kleist,  25. 
Suleika,   57,    136. 
Sun  worship,  179. 
Switzerland,  Journeys  to,  31,  37,  49, 

158. 
Symbol   of  the   Earth-spirit,   282;   of 

the  macrocosm,  287-288. 
Symonds,  J.  A.,  Translations  by,  338, 

339. 

Tact,  Illustration  of,  147. 

Tantalus,  212. 

"Tasso,"  37,  38,  105,  174,  282. 

Taylor,  Bayard,   m,  221,  287. 

Telepathy,  238,  241. 

Teplitz,  167,  173. 

Textor,    Anna    Margaretha,    Portrait 

of,  4. 
Textor,    Johann    Wolfgang    (Schult- 

heiss),  I,  8;  Portrait  of,  3. 
Textor  Homestead,  6. 
Thackeray,   167. 
Theater  in  Weimar,  43,  45,   127;   in 

Frankfort,  French,  9;  Resigned  as 

director  of,  57. 


356 


GOETHE. 


Theism,  29. 

Theophilus  legend,  301,  302. 

Theophrastus,  98. 

"This  truth  may  be  by  all  believed," 

220. 
Thorane,  Count  of,  9;  Portrait  of,  8. 
Thorwaldsen,  62. 
Thusnelda.     See  "Gochhausen,  Frau- 

lein  von." 
Tieck,  Ludwig,  92,  272;    Portrait  of, 

267. 
"Time  mows  roses,"  S3^- 
Tischbein,  40,   123;   Drawing  by,  40; 

Paintings  by,  41,  106. 
Titanic  genius.   Spirit  of,   199. 
Titans,  211. 

"To  a  Golden  Heart,"   105. 
"To  Belinde,"  105. 
"To  Linda,"  121. 

"To  the  Moon,"  2>^,  86,  94,  343-345- 
Transformationist,  G.  a,  251. 
Trap,  Correspondence  with,  81. 
Traveling,  Fondness  for,  158,  168. 
"Treasure  Digger,"  47. 
Treviranus,  250. 
"Trilogy  of  Passion,"  138. 
Trippel,  Alexander,   143,   144. 
"True  Enjoyment,"  74. 
"Truth  and  Fiction,"  9,  56,  66;  Frie- 

derike  in,  92;   Quotations  from,   i, 

9,  10,  II,  12,  28,  76,  83,  91,  92,  149, 

159,  177-185,  193-194,  195,  211,  274. 
Tiirckheim,  Bernhard  Friedrich  von, 

105. 

"Ugolino,"  32. 

"United  States,  The,"  61. 

Valentinus,  288. 

"Vanitas!    Vanitatum    Vanitas!"    57, 

340-343- 
Varnhagen  von  Ense,  93. 
Vicar  of  Wakefield,  85,  86. 
Vienna,  Invitation  to,  173. 
Villeter,  Dr.  Gustav,  108. 
Volksbuch,  300. 
Volpato,  Giovanni,  38. 
Voltaire,  49. 
Volterra,  306. 


Voss,  154. 

Vulpius,  Christian  August,  41 ;  Por- 
trait of,  43. 

Vulpius,  Christiana,  41,  49,  121-124, 
159,  168,  252;  Death  of,  57,  136; 
Drawings  of,  122,  123;  Marriage 
to  G.,  53,  124;  Poems  to,  123,  124, 
252;  Portraits  of,  53,  121,  122,  123. 

Wagner,  Otto,  35,  158. 

Walch,  Professor,   133. 

Walpurgis  Night,  284,  285. 

"Wanderer's  Night  Songs,  121,  217, 
2ig. 

Wanderers  Sturmlied,  22. 

"Wandering  Bell,"  57. 

"War  waged  the  angels  for  the  right," 
337- 

Waterloo,    Battle    of,    136. 

Weimar,  G's  home  at,  155-158;  Oc- 
cupation of,  52;  Theater  at,  43,  45, 
127;  Visit  to,  33. 

Weinlig,  64. 

Weisbach,  Dr.  Werner,  42^. 

Welling,  288. 

"Were  to  the  sun  not  kin  our  eyne," 

Wernekke,  227. 

"Werther,  The  Joys  of  Young,"  27- 

28. 
"Werther,  The  Sorrows  of,"  24-28,  99, 

146,  147,  149,  174,  265,  282. 
"Werther's  Grave,"  28. 
West-Eastern  Divan,  57,  136. 
Wetzlar,  G.  at,  99;  View  of,  22. 
"When  eagerly  a  child  looks  round," 

336. 
"When  head  and  heart  are  busy,  say," 

334- 
"When  in  the  infinite  appeareth,"  jjo. 
"Whim  of  the  Lover,"  13. 
"Who  never  ate  with  tears  his  bread," 

37,  304- 
"Who  on  God  is  grounded,"  220. 
"Who  plays  with  life,"  334. 
"Why  do  you  scoff  and  scout,"  329. 
"Why  keepest  thou  aloof?"  333. 
"Why  stand  they  there  outside?"  138. 
Widmann,  299. 


INDEX 


357 


Wiederholte  Spiegelungen,  gz^i,  94. 

Wieland,  Christoph  Martin,  30-31,  ZJ^ 
84,  102,  155,  268;  Corona  Schroter 
described  by,  112;  Criticism  of,  33; 
Portrait  of,  32;  Soul  of,  231. 

"Wilhelm  Meister,"  2>7,  38,  45,  95,  105, 
147,  282;  Mignon  in,  107;  Quota- 
tions from,  95-98,  196,  304. 

"Wilhelm  Meister's  Journey  Years," 
56. 

Wilhelm  Meisters  theatralische  Sen- 
dung,  108. 

Willemer,  Johann  Jacob  von,  134,  135. 

Willemer,  Marianne  von  (nee  Jung), 
57,   135-136;   Portraits  of,   133,   135. 

"Winckelmann  and  his  Century,"  49. 

Wine,  168,  170,  171. 

Wolf,  Friedrich  August,  273,  280. 

Women,  Relation  to,  66,  73-74,  139- 
141. 


World-conception,  of  Faust,  316;  of 
G.,  244,  272-273  ;  of  Greece,  204, 207. 

"World  has  not  been  made  of  mush 
and  pies,"  333. 

"Would  from  tradition  break  away," 

"Wouldst  thou   ever  onward  roam?" 

335- 
Wunderer,  Fraulein  von,  98, 

"Xenions  and  Kindred  Poems,"  46, 61. 

"Ye  faithful,"  196. 

Yelpers,  Critics  are,  281. 

"You  have  the  Devil  underrated,"  338. 

Zelter,  Karl  Friedrich,  47,  61 ;  Cor- 
respondence with,  59» ;  Portrait  of, 
148. 

Zimmermann,   Johann   Georg,   32. 

Zurich,  Visit  in,  105,  108. 


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